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INTRODUCTION 



TO 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



INCLUDING 



ILLUSTRATIVE SELECTIONS 

WITH NOTES 



BY 

fJ v. N. PAINTER, A.M., D.D., Litt.D. 

Professor of Education in Roanoke College 

AUTHOR OF "A HISTORY OF EDUCATION," "HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERA- 
TURE," " INTRODUCTION TO ENGLISH LITERATURE," " ELEMENTARY 
GUIDE TO LITERARY CRITICISM," " POETS OF THE SOUTH," 
" POETS OF VIRGINIA," ETC. 



LATEST REVISED EDITION' 



SIBLEY & COMPANY 
BOSTON CHICAGO 

1916 



\4' 



Copyright, 1897 
By leach, SHEWELL & SANBORN 



Copyright, 1903, 1911, 1916 
By SIBLEY & COMPANY 




OEC 18 1916 



'CI.A44688G 

n.-w ( V 



PREFACE 

In sending out a new and revised edition of his Introduc- 
tion to Afnerican Literature, the author wishes, first of all, 
to express his gratitude to the teachers who in all parts of 
our country have given a cordial reception to his work. 
In the present revision he has endeavored to make the book 
still more worthy of their favor. 

The present revision has improved the book in several 
important particulars. A considerable amount of new mate- 
rial has been added to the Second National Period. The 
text has been reset ; and, most noteworthy of all the improve- 
ments, a large number of effective new illustrations has 
been introduced. 

The experience of a great number of teachers has con- 
firmed the author's judgment of years ago that literature 
cannot be learned from the ordinary manuals, which present 
only brief biographical facts and fossilized critical estimates. 
Works of this character are useful for reference, and may 
possess some value for training the memory, at least till the 
final examinations are over; but they are feeble instruments 
of literary culture, which after all is the principal aim in 
teaching literature. 

This revised edition, like the work in its original form, 
aims to introduce the student to American literature itself, 
with such helps as will give him an intelligent appreciation 
of its nature and value. The General Survey of each period 
presents briefly the social and political conditions under 
which the various authors wrote. The sketches of the rep- 
resentative writers give with considerable fulness the leading 



111 



iv PREFACE 

biographical facts, together with typical extracts and critical 
estimates of their works. The selections for special study 
contained in the Second Part, which are chosen to illustrate 
the distinguishing characteristics of each author, are supplied 
with explanatory notes to clear up obscurities. In this way, 
it may be fairly claimed, the student is put in a position to 
gain a clear and substantial knowledge of our best authors. 

In pursuing this method, the student gets something more 
than a substantial knowledge of our literature. He is trained 
in correct methods of literary study. His literary taste is 
developed as he critically examines some of the masterpieces 
of our prose and poetry ; and in his subsequent studies in 
literature he will be capable, in some measure at least, of 
forming an intelligent and independent judgment. 

The book claims to be nothing more than an introduction 
to American literature. It is not designed to be a com- 
prehensive manual of reference, though comparatively few 
writers worthy of note have been omitted from the lists pre- 
fixed to each period. It considers at length only the well- 
defined periods and representative writers. It thus follows 
what is known as the intensive method. 

In using the book in the classroom, for which it is chiefly 
intended, it is not necessary to restrict the student to the 
texts supplied. If time permits and the proper books of 
reference are at hand, the teacher may profitably supple- 
ment what is here presented by assigning subjects for the 
student's independent investigation. To this end a list of 
topics, which is intended to serve merely the purpose of sug- 
gestion, has been appended to the several periods and the 
discussion of the principal writers. 

F. V. N. PAINTER. 
Roanoke College, 
May 12, 1916. 



CONTENTS 



Introduction 



PAGE 
I 



First Colonial Period 
Captain John Smith 
Cotton Mather . 



II 



Second Colonial Period 
Benjamin Franklin 
Jonathan Edwards , . 



Ill 



Revolutionary Period 
Thomas Jefferson 
Alexander Hamilton . 



IV 



First National Period 
Washington Irving 
James Fenimore Cooper 
William Cullen Bryant 
Edgar Allan Poe 
Ralph Waldo Emerson 
Nathaniel Hawthorne 
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 
James Russell Lowell 
John Greenleaf Whittier . 
Oliver Wendell Holmes . 



9 

24 

30 



39 

51 
62 



73 

89 

100 



113 
147 
162 

175 
192 

208 

227 

242 

261 

277 

293 



Second National Period 



307 



VI 



CONTENTS 



illustrative selections with notes 
Captain John Smith — 

Captured by the Indians 

Cotton Mather — 

Magnalia Christi : The Voyage to New England 

Benjamin Franklin — 

Preliminary Address to Poor Richard's Almanac 

Jonathan Edwards — 

Resolutions . . . . , . 

Thomas jEFPfeRsoN — 

Declaration of Independence . . . 



Alexander Hamilton — 
The Federalist . 



Washington Irving — 
Rip Van Winkle 
The Broken Heart 



James Fenimore Cooper — 
Escape from a Panther 

William Cullen Bryant — 
Thanatopsis 
To a Waterfowl 
A Forest Hymn 
To the Fringed Gentian 
The Death of the Flowers 
The Evening Wind . 



Edgar Allan Poe — 
The Raven 
The Masque of the Red Death 



Ralph Waldo Emerson — 
Art . 



PAGE 



394 



403 



414 



423 



432 



439 

454 



464 



472 
474 
475 
478 

479 
480 



487 
490 



501 



CONTENTS 



vu 



Nathaniel Hawthorne — 
The Gray Champion . 
Fancy's Show-Box 



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 
A Psalm of Life 
Footsteps of Angels . 
The Skeleton in Armor 
The Arsenal at Springfield 
The Building of the Ship . 

James Russell Lowell — 

What Mr. Robinson Thinks 

The Present Crisis 

The Vision of Sir Launfal . 



John Greenleaf Whittier — 
Memories . 
The Ship-Builders 
Barclay of Ury . 
Maud Muller 
Tauler 

Oliver Wendell Holmes — 
Old Ironsides 
The Last Leaf . 
The Height of the Ridiculous 
The Chambered Nautilus . 
Contentment 
The Deacon's Masterpiece 



Bibliography 
Index 



PAGE 

514 
521 



530 
531 

532 

537 
538 



555 
557 
560 



576 

578 
580 
584 
588 



594 

595 
596 

597 
598 
600 

609 
613 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



INTRODUCTION 

1. Importance of Literature. — No other study is more 
important than that of literature. It not only supplies the 
mind with knowledge, but also refines it in thought and feeling. 
Literature embodies the best thought of the world, a knowledge 
and appreciation of which is the essential element of culture. 
Of all literature, that of our native or adopted country stands 
in closest relation to us, and naturally possesses for us the 
greatest interest. 

2. Comprehensive Meaning. — The term literature needs 
to be carefully considered, and its general and its restricted 
meaning clearly comprehended. In its widest sense, literature 
may be regarded as including the aggregate body of printed 
matter in the world. It is thus a record of the acts, thoughts, 
and emotions of the human family. Its magnitude renders it 
absolutely impossible for any man ever to become acquainted 
with more than a very small part of it. The largest libraries, 
notably that of the British Museum and the Bibliotheque Na- 
tionale of Paris, number each more than a million volumes. 

3. National Literature. — This general or universal litera- 
ture, of which we have just spoken, is obviously made up of 
national literatures. A national literature is composed of the 
literary productions of a particular nation. After reaching 



2 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

a state of civilization, every nation expresses its thoughts and 
feelings in writings. Thus we have the literature of Greece, 
of Rome, of England, of America, and of other nations both 
ancient and modern. 

4. Restricted Sense. — But the word literature has also 
a restricted meaning, which it is important to grasp. In any 
literary production we may distinguish between the thoughts 
that are presented, and the manner in which they are presented. 
We may say, for example, " The sun is rising ; " or, ascending 
to a higher plane of thought and emotion, we may present the 
same fact in the language of Thomson : — 

"But yonder comes the powerful King of Day, 
Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud, 
The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow 
Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach 
Betoken glad." ^ 

5. Artistic Form. — It is thus apparent that the interest 
and value of Hterature are largely dependent upon the manner 
or form in which the facts are presented. In its restricted 
sense, literature includes only those works that are polished or 
artistic in form. The classic works of a literature are those 
which present ideas of general and permanent interest in a 
highly finished or artistic manner. 

6. Three Potent Influences. — Literature is influenced or 
determined by whatever affects the thought and feeling of a 
people. Among the most potent influences that determine 
the character of a literature, whether taken in a broad or in a 
restricted sense, are race, epoch, and surroundings. This fact 
should be well borne in mind, for it renders a philosophy of 
literature possible. We cannot fully understand any litera- 
ture, nor justly estimate it, without an acquaintance with the 

1 The Seasons. Summer, line 8i. 



INTRODUCTION 3 

national traits of the writers, the general character of the age 
in which they lived, and the physical and social conditions by 
which they were surrounded. This fact shows the intimate 
relation between literature and history. 

7. An American Literature. — It has been questioned 
whether we have an American Uterature. But there is no 
reasonable ground for doubt. A fair survey of the facts will 
show that the literature of this country is distinctive in its 
thought and feeling. Our best works are not an echo of the 
literature of England, but a new and valuable contribution 
to the literature of the world. The best of Irving's writings, 
the tales of Hawthorne, the ^' Evangeline " and " Hiawatha'* 
of Longfellow, not to mention many others, are filled with 
American scenery, American thought, and American character. 

8. Work of First Two Centuries. — During the first two 
centuries of our' history, while Shakespeare, Bacon, Milton, 
Dryden, Pope, Addison, Johnson, and Goldsmith were adding 
lustre to English letters, our country produced but few works 
that deserve a place in classic literature. It could hardly 
have been otherwise. Our people were devoting their energies 
chiefly to the great task of subduing a wild continent, building 
towns and cities, producing mechanical inventions, conquering 
political independence, and establishing a social order based 
on the principle of human equality and human freedom. 
These achievements are no less important than the production 
of an elegant literature, and really form the basis upon which 
the arts and sciences naturally rest. Material prosperity and 
political independence bring the leisure and culture that foster 
letters. It was so in the age of Pericles, of Augustus, of Eliza- 
beth, and of Louis XIV. 

9. Brief Period of American Literature. — The literature 
of America is the youngest of national literatures. While we 



4 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

must seek its beginnings in the early part of the seventeenth 
century, it is scarcely more than two generations ago that our 
literature entered upon a vigorous development. Though 
there are two great names in the eighteenth century, — those 
of Franklin and Edwards, — our polite literature really begins 
with Irving, Bryant, and Cooper, in the first quarter of the 
nineteenth century. This is a recent date in comparison with 
the literature of the leading nations of Europe. 

10. Course of Other Literatures. — The literary history 
of England extends through no fewer than twelve centuries ; 
and already five hundred years ago it had produced in Chaucer 
one of the world's great writers. The literary history of 
France covers an equally extended period ; and already in the 
Middle Ages it counted several famous epics. In Germany 
the great " Nibelungen Lied " was composed in the twelfth 
century. While it is true that we are '* heirs of all the 
ages," and as such have inherited the literary treasures of 
the past, the growth of our literature has been too short to 
realize the fulness of power that will come with greater 
maturity of age. 

11. Future Development. — During the nineteenth cen- 
tury, American literature had a remarkable development. 
In various departments — history, criticism, poetry — it 
fairly vied with that of the mother country. Yet our highest 
literary achievements probably lie in the future. With a 
territory capable of supporting a population of five hundred 
millions, the task of the American people is not yet half ac- 
complished. Material interests and social problems will con- 
tinue, it may be for a long time, to absorb a large part of the 
best talent of our land. We are at present living our epic 
poem, — the greatest the world has seen. But after this 
period of ardent striving and conflict is past, our golden age 



INTRODUCTION 5 

will come ; and, having time to listen, we shall, perhaps, en- 
courage some Homer or Milton to sing. 

12. Favorable Conditions. — No other country seems to 
present more favorable conditions for the development of a 
great literature. The most interesting factor in literature is 
the human element, — the presentation of the thoughts, emo- 
tions, and experiences of men. As literature naturally reflects 
national life, the nature of this element depends upon the 
culture and experience of the people. Nowhere else has life 
been more varied and more intense than in America ; and no- 
where else, in the years to come, will it aftord richer and more 
picturesque materials. 

13. A Branch of English Literature. — American literature 
is an offshoot of English Hterature, and shares the life of the 
parent stock. It uses the same language ; and its earliest 
writers were colonists who had received their education in 
England. The culture of this country is distinctively English 
in origin and character ; the differences are but modifications 
growing out of the new environment. We owe our laws and 
our religion chiefly to England ; and the political independence 
achieved through the Revolution did not withdraw us from the 
humanizing influence of English letters. 

14. Broadened Literary Culture. — In recent years, through 
the importation of French, German, and Russian books, our 
literary culture, as in other progressive countries, has become 
more cosmopolitan in character. But before that time, our 
reading was confined almost exclusively to English authors. 
The great EngHsh classics, from Chaucer down, we justly 
claim as our natural heritage. The leading movements in the 
literary history of England have been reflected in America. 
In many cases a similarity of thought and style may be traced, 
as between Goldsmith and Irving, Scott and Cooper, Carlyle 



6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

and Emerson. But this resemblance has not risen from feeble 
or conscious imitation ; it has not interfered with the individ- 
uality of our authors, nor impaired the excellence of their 
works. 

15. Colonial and Revolutionary Periods. — The literary 
history of our country may be divided into several periods, 
the general character of which is more or less sharply defined, 
though the limits naturally shade into one another by ahnost 
imperceptible degrees. The first period, which includes nearly 
the whole of the seventeenth century, may be called the First 
Colonial Period. The principal productions of this period 
represent, not American, but English, culture, and are con- 
cerned chiefly with a description of the New World, with the 
story of its colonization, or with a discussion of the theological 
questions that grew out of the great Protestant Reformation 
in Europe. The next period, beginning with the eighteenth 
century, and extending to the Revolution, may be known as the 
Second Colonial Period. In the Hterature of this period, 
American life is reflected more fully, and two writers, Franklin 
and Edwards, stand out with great prominence. Then follows 
what we may designate the Revolutionary Period, extending 
from the Revolution to the War of 1812. The dominant in- 
fluence in this period was the establishment of a new and inde- 
pendent government. Here belong the names of Washington, 
Jefferson, Hamilton, Madison, and Jay. 

16. Two National Periods. — This was followed by an era 
of literary bloom, which may be characterized as the First 
National Period. It covers the time lying between the War 
of 181 2 and the Civil War, and furnishes the beginning of what 
is called polite literature, or belles-lettres, in this country. 
To this period belong the greatest names of our literary history, 
— Irving, Cooper, Bryant, Hawthorne, Longfellow, and others. 



INTRODUCTION 7 

Lastly, we have the present period, which for convenience may 
be called the Second National Period. It begins with the 
Civil War, and exhibits a broad cosmopolitan tendency. 
Though it has produced but few writers of pre-eminent ability, 
it is characterized by unexampled literary activity, and by 
great excellence of Hterary form. 



FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD 



REPRESENTATIVE WRITERS 

JOHN SMITH COTTON MATHER 

{See sketches at the close of this section.) 

OTHER WRITERS 

MROINTA 

William Strachey, bom 1585; secretary of the Virginia Colony 1610-1612. 
Wrote "Wrackc and Redemption of Sir Thomas (iates," and "Historic 
of Travaile into Virginia." 

George Sandys (1577-1644). Removed to .\merica in 162 1, and became 
treasurer of the N'irginia Colony. Translated in N'irginia ten books of 
Osid's "Metamorphoses." (See text.) 

Alexander Whitaker (1588-after 1613). An Episcopal clergyman who 
came to Virginia in 161 1. He baptized Pocahontas, and officiated at her 
marriage. He wrote "Good Xewes from Virginia," one of the first books 
written in the colony. 

NEW ENGLAND 

William Bradford (1588-1657). One of the Mayflower colonists, governor 
of Plymouth for many years. "History of Plymouth Plantation" from 
1620 to 1647. "The father of .\merican history." 

John Wintiirop (1588-1649). Came to Massachusetts in 1630, and was 
governor for many years. "History of Xew England" from 1630 to 
1649. .\ journal of ever>'-day happenings. 

John Cotton (1585-1652). Educated at Trinity College, Cambridge. Mi- 
grated to Boston in 1633, and became pastor of the Eirst Church. A 
distinguished preacher. "Singing of Psalms a Gospel Ordinance." 

9 



lO AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Edward Johnson (1599-167 2). Came to New England in 1630. Was a 
representative in the General Court or legislature of Massachusetts for 
several terms. Author of ''Wonder-working Providence of Zion's Saviour 
in New England." 

John Eliot (1604-1690). Graduated at Cambridge in 1623, and came to 
Boston in 1631. "The Apostle to the Indians," into whose language he 
translated the Bible. In 1660 he published, in England, " The Christian 
Commonwealth; or, The Civil Policy of the Rising Kingdom of Jesus 
Christ." 

Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672). Wife of Governor Bradstreet. The earliest 
writer of verse in America. Her first volume was published in England 
under the title, "The Tenth Muse lately Sprung up in America." (See 
text.) 

Increase Mather (1638-1723). Graduated at Harvard in 1656; took his 
M.A. degree at Trinity College, Dublin. Pastor of Second Church in 
Boston; for sixteen years (1685-1701) president of Harvard College. 
His publications number one hundred and sixty. 

Contemporary Writers in England 

Shakespeare (1564-1616); Bacon (1561-1626); Milton (1608-1674); 
Dryden (1631-1700); Raleigh (1552-1618); Ben Jonson (1573-1637); 
Jeremy Taylor ( 16 13-166 7) ; Edmund Waller (1605- 168 7) ; Abraham 
Cowley (1618-1667); Francis Quarles (1592-1644); John Bunyan 
(1628-1688); Samuel Butler (1612-1680). 



FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD 

(1607-1689) 

17. Colonization of the New World. — The English were 
slow in establishing colonies in the New World. While Spain 
was subduing Mexico and a large part of South America, they 
remained comparatively inactive. The French were ahead of 
them in Canada. But when at last the English undertook 
the work of colonization, the Anglo-Saxon \igor asserted its 
superiority, and took possession of the fairest part of the Ameri- 
can continent. From insignificant and unpromising begin- 
nings, the English colonies rapidly developed into a great 
nation, rivalling the mother country not only in commercial 
interests, but also in science and literature. 

18. First English Settlements. — The English occupation 
of this country began early in the seventeenth century with the 
establishment of two colonies, which were as different in char- 
acter as they were widely removed from each other in space. 
The first of these colonies was founded in 1607 at Jamestown 
in Virginia ; the other in 1620 at Plymouth in New England. 



CONTE]MPOR.\RY EVENTS IN ENGLAND 

James I, 1603-1625. The Restoration, 1660. 

Charles I, 1625-1649. Charles II, 1660-1685. 

Civil War, 1642-1646. James II, 1685-1688. 

The Commonwealth, 1649- 1660. The Revolution, 1688. 

Accession of William and Mary, 1689. 
II 



12 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Both settlements, in their subsequent development, were 
destined to play an important part in the political and literary 
history of our country. In a measure they represented two 
different tendencies in politics and religion : the Virginia 




c!,AMESTOr,'N \i\\C,2 

■ Jamestown, Virginia, in 1622 

colonists upholding the Church of England and standing by the 
king ; the New England colonists favoring a change in the 
English Church, and adhering to the Parliament. The one 
was thus conservative ; the other, progressive, — character- 
istics that are perceptible at the present day. 



I . Virginia 

19. Early Hardships. — It is beyond the scope of the present 
work to follow in detail the various trials and vicissitudes of 
the young settlement at Jamestown. The story is well known. 



FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD 13 

Nearly the whole century was consumed in getting the colony 
firmly on its feet. For a time disease carried off a large number 
of the colonists and discouraged the rest. The Indians fre- 
quently became unfriendly, and made repeated attempts to 
massacre the colonists. Many of the governors were incom- 
petent and selfish ; and the energies of the people were at times 
wasted by dissension and strife. One man alone, during this 
early period, was able to plan and execute wisely ; and that was 
Captain John Smith. 

20. Cavalier Tone. — At various times during the century 
the colony received new accessions of immigrants. After the 
Civil War in England, and the establishment of the Protec- 
torate under Cromwell, many of the Royalists, adherents of 
Charles I, sought a home in the New World, and gave a distinct 
Cavalier tone to Virginia society. The manners of the mother 
country were in a measure reproduced. '' The Virginian 
planter was essentially a transplanted Englishman in tastes 
and convictions, and emulated the social amenities and the 
culture of the mother country. Thus in time was formed a 
society distinguished for its refinement, executive ability, and 
generous hospitality, for which the Ancient Dominion is pro- 
verbial." 1 

21. Unfavorable Conditions. — It will be readily under- 
stood that the conditions in Virginia during this period were 
not favorable to the production of literature. For the greater 
part of the first century, after the planting of the colony, the 
energies of the people were almost entirely absorbed in the 
difficult work of establishing for themselves a permanent 
home. This task included not only the building of houses and 
the clearing of farms, but also the subduing of hostile and 
treacherous tribes of Indians. Under the stress of this toil- 

1 Winsor, Narrative and Critical History of America, Vol. Ill, p. 153. 



14 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

some and dangerous life, there could be but little leisure for the 
cultivation of literature as an art. The writings of the time 
were, for the most part, of a practical nature, designed either 
to preserve the history of the planting of the young nation, or 
to acquaint the people of the mother country with the wonders 
of the New World. 

22. Population Agricultural. — In addition to these unfa- 
vorable surroundings, it can hardly be claimed that the social 
conditions in Virginia, during the period under consideration, 
were likely to foster literary taste and literary production. 
The colonists, devoted to tobacco-planting and agriculture, 
settled on large plantations. There were no towns ; and even 
Jamestown, the capital, had at the close of the century only 
a state-house, one church, and eighteen private dwellings. 
But little attention was paid to education. There is scarcely 
any mention of schools before 1688 ; and learning fell into such 
general neglect that Governor Spottswood in 171 5 reproached 
the colonial assembly for having furnished two of its standing 
committees with chairmen who could not '' spell EngHsh or 
write common sense." There was no printing-press in Vir- 
ginia before 1681 ; and the printer was required to give bond 
not to print anything '' until his Majesty's pleasure shall be 
known." 

23. Sir William Berkeley. — For nearly forty years of this 
period, from 1641 to 1677, Sir William Berkeley exerted his 
influence and power " in favor of the fine old conservative 
poKcy of keeping subjects ignorant in order to keep them sub- 
missive." ^ When questioned in 1670 about the condition of 
Virginia, he said : '' I thank God there are no free schools nor 
printing ; and I hope we shall not have, these hundred years ; 
for learning has brought disobedience, and heresy, and sects 

^ Tyler, History of American Literature, p. 89. 



FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD 



15 



into the world, and printing has divulged them, and libels 
against the best government. God keep us from both." ^ 
Surely under these circumstances there was but little en- 
couragement to literature. 

24. College of William and Mary. — Toward the close of 
the period before us, a growing interest in higher education 
resulted, in 1692, in the founding of the College of William and 
Mary, the oldest institution of learning in the South, and, after 
Harvard, the oldest in the United States. It received a cordial 
support not only 
in Virginia, but 
also in England. 
The lieutenant- 
governor headed 
the subscription 
list with a gener- 
ous gift, and his 
example was fol- 
lowed by other 
prominent mem- 
bers of the colony. 
After the sum of twenty-five hundred pounds had thus been 
raised, the Rev. James Blair was sent to England to solicit a 
charter for the institution. This was readily granted; and 
as a further evidence of the royal favor, the quit rents yet due 
in the colony, amounting to nearly two thousand pounds, were 
turned over to the college. For its further support, twenty 
thousand acres of land were set apart for its use, and a tax of 
a penny a pound was laid on all tobacco exported from 
Virginia and Maryland to other American colonies. 

25. Location and Purpose. — The college was located at 

1 Campbell, History of Virginia, p. 273. 




College of William and Mary, Williamsburg, 
Virginia 



l6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Williamsburg ; and the Rev. James Blair, who had been active 
in securing its establishment, was chosen as its first president. 
In the language of the charter, the college was founded '' to 
the end that the Church of Virginia may be furnished with a 
seminary of ministers of the Gospel, and that the youth may 
be piously educated in good letters and manners, and that 
Christian faith may be propagated among the western Indians 
to the glory of God." The founding of this college, though 
without influence upon literature during the First Colonial 
period, supplied in the next century a number of men who 
became illustrious in the political and literary history of their 
country. 

2. New England 

26. Landing of the Puritans. — Thirteen years after the 
founding of Jamestown, the Mayflower, with one hundred 
and two colonists, landed at Plymouth. They were Puritans, 
who for the sake of conscience first exiled themselves in Hol- 
land ; and there considering that their nationality would 
finally be lost among the hospitable Dutch, they heroically 
resolved to migrate to the New World. They recognized the 
difficulties of the undertaking ; but, as one of their number 
tells us, it was replied that " all great and honorable actions are 
accompanied with great difficulties, and must be both enter- 
prised and overcome with answerable courages." 

27. The Religious Factor. — ReUgion was a dominant 
factor in the character of the Puritans. In coming to America, 
they sought a refuge where, to use their own language, they 
" might glorify God, do more good to their country, better pro- 
vide for their posterity, and live to be more refreshed by their 
labors." They were thorough-going Protestants ; but in 
their adherence to Scripture they fell into Hebrew rigor. They 



FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD 17 

not only abstained from all forms of immorality, but they dis- 
countenanced innocent pleasures. 

28. Growth of Colony. — Notwithstanding the difficulties 
which attended their settlement, — the rigor of the climate, 
the hostility of the Indians, and the interference of foes abroad, 
— the Puritan colony rapidly grew in numbers and influence. 
The despotism of Charles I and the persecution instigated by 
Archbishop Laud drove some of the best people of England to 
seek religious and political freedom in the colony of Massa- 
chusetts. By the year 1640 the colony numbered more than 
twenty thousand persons, distributed in about fifty towns and 
villages. Tyranny had made them friends of constitutional 
government. 

29. Popular Intelligence. — In spite of superstition and 
religious intolerance — evils belonging to the age — New 
England was from the start the friend of popular intelligence 
and social progress. The printing-press was introduced in 
1639; and though it was kept under close supervision, it 
was not allowed to remain entirely inactive. The Puritans 
deserve the credit of being the hrst community in Christendom 
to make ample provision for the instruction of the people. " In 
the laws establishing public schools, lies the secret of the success 
and character of New England. Every child, as it was born in- 
to the world, was lifted from the earth by the genius of the 
country, and, in the statutes of the land, received, as its birth- 
right, a pledge of the public care of its morals and its mind." ^ 

30. Establishment of Schools. — In order that the Scrip- 
tures might be properly understood, and that learning might 
not be buried in the grave of their fathers, as the Act of the 
General Court stated, it was ordered in 1647 in all the Puritan 
colonies, '' that every township, after the Lord hath increased 

1 Bancroft, History of the United States, Vol. I, p. 459. 



i8 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



them to fifty householders, shall appoint one to teach all 
children to write and read ; and when any town shall increase 
to the number of one hundred families, they shall set up a 
grammar-school; the masters thereof being able to instruct 
youth so far as they may be fitted for the university." 

31. Harvard College. — Harvard College, the oldest insti- 
tution of learning in the United States, was founded in 1636. 
In that year the Massachusetts assembly " agreed to give four 
hundred pounds towards a school or college. ' ' This appropria- 
tion was equivalent to the colony tax for one year, and from 




Harvard College, Cambridge, Massachusetts 



this point of view would equal at the present time several 
millions of dollars. Newtown, which was afterwards changed 
to Cambridge in memory of the English university town, was 
chosen as the site of the new college. When John Harvard, 
who died shortly after the founding of the college, bequeathed 



FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD 



19 



to it his library and one-half of his estate, his name was asso- 
ciated with the institution which was destined to exert an 
untold influence upon the literary history of our country. 

32. Literary Pre-eminence. — We can now understand the 
literary pre-eminence of New England. From the first it was colo- 
nized by an earnest body of men of unusual intelligence. They 
lived together in towns, where perpetual contact sharpened 
their wits, and kept them in s}Tnpathy with subjects of common 
interest. Their attitude to religion led them to theological 
discussion. With some conception at least of the magnitude 
and far-reaching results of their undertaking, they minutety 
noted the facts of their „^^ 



experience, and sought to 
build a solid political 
structure. The tasks im- 
posed upon them, as well 
as their novel and pic- 
turesque surroundings, 
stimulated their minds to 
the highest activity. 
From their surroundings 
and character we should 
not expect artistic form. 
They hardly thought of 
literature as a fine art. 
But in their literature we 
find a manly strength and 
an intense earnestness of 
purpose. 

33. The " Bay Psalm 
Book." — The seven- 
teenth century produced 



^ WHOLE 

0Cj bookeofpsalmbs 
SV. ^^jf>f^y 






XltAKSlATEO m>, SNGMSH 



^ Whcmnto it prefixed idifcourfcde 



1.7 







Churcfaeiof 
Co4. 

Ctlt, n\. 



^ . . ..' ... ' 

i 



f K\ mij hi mtrrj Itt bimft^ff^mn, (Qr^ 



Wi 



kd- 



1^40 




Fac-simile of the Bay Psalm Book 



20 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

a large number of writers in New England. Most of their 
works, however, are of interest now only to the antiquarian 
or specialist. No masterpiece of literature, such as the 
Puritan Milton produced in England, appeared to adorn 
American letters. The first book printed was the " Bay 
Psalm Book," a rude rendering of the Hebrew. As the preface 
informs us, " It hath been one part of our religious care and 
faithful endeavor to keep close to the original text. If, there- 
fore, the verses are not always so smooth and elegant as some 
may desire or expect, ... we have respected rather a plain 
translation than to smooth our verses with the sweetness of 
any paraphrase ; and so have attended conscience rather than 
elegance, fidelity rather than poetry." After this introduction 
we are not much surprised to read the following version of 
Psalm XIX : — 

"The heavens doe declare 

the majesty of God : 
also the firmament shews forth 

his handy work abroad. 
Day speaks to day, knowledge 

night hath to night declar'd. 
There neither speach nor language is, 

where their voyce is not heard. 
Through all the earth their line 

is gone forth, & unto 
the utmost end of all the world, 

their speaches reach also : 
A Tabernacle hee 

in them pitcht for the Sun, 
Who Bridegroom like from's chamber goes 

glad Giants-race to run. 
From heavens utmost end, 

his course and compassing 
To ends of it, & from the heat 

thereof is hid nothing." 



FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD 



21 



34. Narrow Range of Literature. — Both in Virginia and 
New England the range of subjects is limited. The life of the 
times, as in every age, is reflected in its literary works. Not 
aesthetic enjoyment but practical utility is the end aimed at. 
A glance at the titles of the principal works of this period, as 
given in the preceding list of writers, will show that narration 
and description, history, religion and theology, and civil 
administration were the principal themes. And in their 
treatment we find abundance and force rather than self- 
restraint and perfection of form. 

35. George Sandys. — To these remarks, however, there 
are at least two important exceptions — one in each colony. 
Amid the suffer- 
ings, hardships, 

and dangers of 
establishinga 
home on this wild 
continent, two 
souls still sought 
opportunity to 
cultivate the 
muse of poetry. 
The first was 
George Sandys, 
who, coming to 
Virginia in 1622, 
there completed 
his translation of 
the fifteen books 
of Ovid's '' Met- 
amorphoses." '' This book," to use the words of Tyler, " may 
well have for us a sort of sacredness, as being the first monu- 




George Sandys 



22 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

merit of English poetry, of classical scholarship, and a de- 
liberate literary art, reared on these shores. And when we 
open the book, and examine it with reference to its merits, 
first, as a faithful rendering of the Latin text, and, second, 
as a specimen of fluent, idiomatic, and musical English 
poetry, we find that in both particulars it is a work that 
we may be proud to claim as in some sense our own, and 
to honor as the morning-star at once of poetry and of 
scholarship in the new world ! " A few lines must suffice for 
illustration : — 

"The Golden Age was first ; which uncompeld 
And without rule, in faith and truth exceld, 
As then there was no punishment nor fear ; 
Nor threat 'ning laws in brass prescribed were ; 
Nor suppliant crouching prisoners shook to see 
Their angrie judge." 

36. Anne Bradstreet. — The other exception to the prev- 
alent utilitarian authorship was Mrs. Anne Bradstreet of 
Massachusetts, who was known as '' the tenth muse lately 
sprung up in America." She found time, even among the 
cares of rearing eight children, to acquire considerable stores 
of learning. She was well versed in ancient history. In 
her poetry, learning, it must be confessed, frequently sup- 
planted inspiration. Sometimes we meet with rather a 
startling piece of realism, as when, in speaking of winter, 
she says : — 

"Beef, brawn, and pork are now in great'st request, 
And solid'st meats our stomachs can digest." 

But she loved nature ; and in her descriptions of flowers, 
and birds, and streams, she often reaches the plane of genuine 
poetry, JJei moralizing is naturally in the sombre Puritan 



FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD 



23 



vein. In her '' Contemplations," a moral and descriptive 
poem of no slight excellence, she sings : — 

"Under the cooling shade of a stately elm 
Close sate I by a goodly river's side, 
Where gliding streams the rocks did overwhelm ; 

A lonely place, with pleasures dignified. 
I once that lov'd the shady woods so well, 
Now thought the rivers did the trees excel, 
And if the sun would ever shine, there would I dwell." 



CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 




37. Interesting Career. — 
During the early colonial period, 
the first writer in time, as, 
perhaps, in prominence, is Cap- 
tain John Smith of Virginia. 
His personal history, which he 
has himself related in full, reads 
like a romance. Indeed, so in- 
teresting and remarkable are 
the incidents of his life, as given 
in his several volumes, that it is 
impossible to escape the suspi- 
cion that he has freely supple- 
mented and embellished the 
facts from the resources of his 
ample imagination. 

Yet, after all due abatement 
is made, the fact remains incontestable, that his career presented 
striking vicissitudes of fortune, and that in the midst of trials and 
dangers he showed himself fertile in resources, and dauntless in 
courage. In more than one emergency, the colony at Jamestown 
owed its preser\'ation to his sagacity and courage; and though 
from the beginning his superior abiUties made him an object of 
envy, he had the magnanimity to extinguish resentment, and the 
unselfishness to labor for the good of his enemies. 

38. His Youth. — John Smith was born in Lincolnshire, Eng- 
land, in 1580, the son of a well-to-do farmer. He received a moder- 
ate education in the schools of Alford and Louth. His parents died 
when he was a lad of fifteen ; and though they left him a comfort- 
able fortune, he was not content quietly to enjoy it. His youth- 

24 



Captain John Smith 



CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 



25 



ful heart was set on adventures abroad ; and only his father's death 
prevented his running away from home and going to sea. He was 
afterwards bound as an apprentice to Thomas Sendall, a prominent 
merchant of Lynn ; but his restless disposition could not be satisfied 
with the unromantic duties of a counting-house, and hence he made 
his escape to give himself to a life of travel and adventure. 

39. Travel and Adventure. — The next few years witnessed an 
astonishing amount of roving adventure. We find him in Europe, 
Asia, and Africa, and everywhere encountering dangers and mak- 
ing marvellous escapes. He read military science, and disciplined 
himself to the use of arms. He serv^ed under Henry IV of France, 
and then assisted the Dutch in their struggle against Philip II 
of Spain. Afterw^ards, to use his own words, " He was desirous 
to see more of the world, and try his fortune against the Turks, 
both lamenting and repenting to have seen so many Christians 
slaughter one another." 

40. Cast Into the Sea. — Taking ship at Marseilles with a com- 
pany of pilgrims going to Rome, he was angrily reproached for his 
Protestant heresy ; and when a storm was encountered, his violent 
and superstitious fellow-travellers cast him, like another Jonah, 
into the sea. His good fortune did not desert him in this emer- 
gency. He succeeded in reaching a small, uninhabited island, from 
which he was shortly rescued and taken to Eg}^pt. After other 
vicissitudes, including the capture of a rich Venetian argosy, he 
finally reached Vienna, and enlisted under the Emperor Rudolph 
II against the Turks. 

41. Success and Misfortune. — In the campaigns that followed, 
he won the confidence of his commanders. At Regal, in Tran- 
sylvania, he distinguished himself in the presence of two armies 
by slaying in succession, in single combat, three Turkish cham- 
pions. For this deed of prowess he received a patent of nobility, 
and a pension of three hundred ducats a year. Afterwards he 
had the misfortune to be wounded in battle, and was captured by 
the Turks. Having been sold as a slave, he was taken to Con- 
stantinople, where he touched the heart of his mistress by relating 



\ 



26 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

to her, like another Othello, the whole story of his adventures. 
Subsequently, after spending some time in Tartary, he made his 
escape through Russia, and at length returned to England in 1604. 
But his spirit of adventure was not yet satiated, and he at once 
threw himself into the schemes of colonization that were then 
engaging attention. He was one of the founders of the London 
Company. 

42. A Colonist at Jamestown. — The landing of the colony at 
Jamestown and their early difficulties and trials have already 
been spoken of. In the language of Smith, " There were never 
Englishmen left in a foreign country in such misery as we were 
in this new discovered Virginia. We watched every three nights, 
lying on the bare cold ground, what weather soever came, and 
warded all the next day, which brought our men to be most feeble 
wretches. Our food was but a small can of barley sodden in water 
to five men a day. Our drink, cold water taken out of the river, 
which was, at a flood, very salt, at a low tide, full of slime and filth, 
which was the destruction of many of our men." In less than six 
months, more than one-half of the colony had perished. 

43. Toil and Exploration. — 
Smith encouraged the disheart- 
ened colonists, and wisely direc- 
ted their labors, always bear- 
ing the heaviest part himself. 
Houses were built, and the land 
was tilled ; and as often as sup- 
plies of food were needed, he 




succeeded in begging or bullying 
the Indians into furnishing what 
was needed. As opportunity 
presented itself, he diligently ex- 
plored the country. It was on 
an expedition of discovery up 
the Chickahominy that he fell 
Pocahontas into the hands of Powhatan ; and 



CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 27 

in spite of his fertility in resources, he escaped death only through 
the well-known intercession and protection of the noble-minded 
Pocahontas. 

In recent years the truth of this story has been questioned; 
but an examination of the evidence hardly warrants us in pro- 
nouncing '' the Pocahontas myth demolished." Until a stronger 
array of facts can be adduced, it must still stand as the most 
beautiful and most romantic incident connected with the found- 
ing of the American colonies. 

44. Dissension and Misfortune. — While Smith had the direc- 
tion of the colony as president, it prospered. The Indians were 
kept in subjection, and the colonists were wisely directed in their 
labors. But in 1609 a change took place. Five hundred new 
colonists arrived, and refused to acknowledge his authority. 
They robbed the Indians, and plotted the murder of Smith. While 
dangers were thus gathering, an accident changed the course of 
events. As Smith lay sleeping in his boat, the powder bag at his 
side exploded, and frightfully burned his body. In his agony 
he leaped overboard, and narrowly escaped drowning. In his 
disabled condition and need of medical aid, he returned to England 
in October, 1609, and never visited Virginia again. His absence 
was sorely felt. The colonists soon fell into great disorder and 
distress. '^ The starving time " came on ; and in five months 
death reduced the number of colonists from four hundred and 
ninety to sixty. 

45. Contemporary Estimate. — Two of the survivors of " the 
starving time " have left a noble estimate of the character of 
Smith: " What shall I say? but thus we lost him that in all his 
proceedings made justice his first guide and experience his second; 
ever hating baseness, sloth, pride, and indignity more than any 
dangers; that never allowed more for himself than his soldiers 
with him ; that upon no danger would send them where he would 
not lead them himself; that would never see us want what he 
either had, or could by any means get us ; that would rather want 
than borrow, or starve and not pay; that loved actions more 



28 AMERICAN UTERArVRE 

than words, and liatcd cozenage and falsehood more than death; 
whose adventures were our Hves, and whose loss our death." 

46. Explorations in New England. —The next few years of his 
life, from \()io to 1617, Smith spent in voyages to Ihal section 
of our country which he named New England. While fishing for 
cod and bartering for furs, his principal object was to explore the 
coast, with a view to establish a settlement. He explored and 
mapped the country from the Penobscot to Cape Cod. His 
explorations in this region earned for him the title of " Admiral 
of New England." On his last expedition lie was captured by 
a Erench pirate, and carried prisoner to Rochelle. Hut soon 
effecting his escape, he made his way back to England, which he 
seems never to have left again. The last years of his life were 
devoted to authorship. Among his numerous works may be 
mentioned the following: ''A True Relati(m " (1608); ''A J)e- 
scrij)tion of New lOngland " (r6i6); " 'I'he General History 
of Virginia" (1624); and "The True Travels" (1630). He 
died June 21, 1631, <'ind wms buried in St. Sepulchre's Church, 
London. 

47. Summary of his Career. — He has left us an admirable sum- 
mary of his remarkable life: '* Having been a slave to the Turks; 
prisoner among the most barbarous savages ; after my deliver- 
ance commonly discovering and ranging those large rivers and 
unknown nations with such a handful of ignorant companions 
that the wiser sort often gave me up for lost; always in mutinies, 
wants, and miseries; blown up with gunpowder; a long time a 
prisoner among the Erench pirates, from whom escaping in a 
little boat by myself. . . . And many a score of the worst winter 
months have I lived in liie fields; yet to liave lived lliiily-seven 
years in the midst of wars, pestilence, and famine, by which many 
a hundred thousand have died about me, and scarce five living 
of them that went first with me to Virginia, and yet to see the 
fruits of my labors thus well begin to prosper (though 1 have 
but my lal)or for my pains), have I not much reason, both privately 
and publicly, to acknowledge it and give God thanks? " 



CAPTAiy JOH.\ S\tlTH 2Q 

48. An Extraordinary Man. — Atler all necessary alvi\teniont 
is made in the accouni he lias given of his life, it is apjx\reni that 
he was no ordinary man. He was great in word and dei\l. His 
voluminous writings are characterizeii by clearness, force, and 
dramatic energy. His intellect was cast in the lar^e mould of 
the era to which he In^longeil. He was a man of bnwd views. 
As a leader he displaytnl courage and extvutive ability; and few 
American explorers have sliown the s;ime indomitable energy. 
Though restless, ambitious, and vain, he was noble in aim and 
generous in disposition. During the lirst quarter of the seven- 
teenth century '" he did more than any other Englishman to 
make an American nation and an American literature possible." 



COTTOIV MATHER 



49. A Literary Wonder. — 

AnioHL;; tlio luinuMous writers 
o\ \\w lust lolonial cvi\ in 
\o\v iMigland, Cotton Matlior 
stands as a kind of literary 
hehenioth. In litiMary pro- 
duet i\tMiess, thougli not in 
\viMi;lit\' eliaraeter, he aj^pears 
in the htiMature ol" the time 
witli sonielliini; ol" the huge- 
ness that afterwards distin- 
uuislied Samuel jolnison in 
!"-ngland. His ])ublished writ- 
ini^s reaeh tlie astonishinjij 
numi)eri)f [hvcc hundred and 
iMg]Uy-thi\H> ; and while many 
of them, it is true, are t)nly 

l>amphlets. there are also amonu: (hem hulk\ \olumes. 

50. Ancestry and Education. He was the third of a line of 

distinguished ancestors, the ri>lati\i' standing of whom is given in 

an old epitaph : — 

"lliuliM- this stiHio lies Rirhanl Mather, 
Who had a son greater than his father, 
.And eUi' a j^randst^n ^ri\iter than either." 

Tliis grandson was oi course Cotton Mather, who was l)orn 
Feb. 12, i()(\^, in lU)ston. On the siiK^ i)f his motluM", wiio was 
a daughter t>f tlu^ ci^K^hrated j^ulpit-oratoi- John (\>ttt>n, lu^ like- 
wise inherited talents of no usual ordca. .\fter reeei\ing his 

30 




t'oiioN Maihik 



COTTOX \fATHER U 

preparatory training in the free schcK^l of Boston, he entered 
Har\*ard College, at the age of twelve years, with superior at- 
tainments. During his collegiate course he was distinguished 
for his ability and scholarship; and at the time of his graduation. 
the president of the college, with a reference to his double line 
of illustrious ancestors, s;iid in a Latin oration: ** I trust that in 
this youth Cotton and Mather will be united and flourish again." 

51. A Type of F*uritan Culture. — He may be regardeil as a 
typical product of the Puritan culture of his time; and with 
this fact in mind, his life becomes doubly interesting. He possessed 
a deeply religious nature, which asserteii itself strongly even in 
his youth, and drove him to continual introspection. Troubled 
with doubts and fears alK>ut his s;Uvation, he became serious in 
manner, and s^x^nt much time in prayer and fasting. At the 
s;imo time he was active in doing good, instructing his brothers 
and sisters at home, and fearlessly repro\ing his companions for 
profanity or immorality. 

52. A Minister of the Gospel. — After leaving college. Cotton 
Mather spent sexeral years in teaching. But inheriting two 
great ecclesiastical names, it was but natural for him to think of 
the ministry. Unfortunately, he was embarrassed by a strongly 
marked impediment of speech; but upon the advice of a friend, 
accustoming himself to *' dilated deliberation " in public speaking, 
he succeeded in overcoming this dithculty. He preached his 
tirst sermon at the age of seventeen, and a few months afterwards 
was calleii to North Church, the leading congregation in Boston, 
as associate of his father. His preaching was well received — 
a fact about which, perhaps, lie was undul\- concerneii. With 
his habit of dwelling u^x>n his inward states of mind, he noted in 
his Diary (to which we are much indebted for an insight into his 
subjective life) a tendency to sinful pride, which he endeavored 
to suppress by the doubtful expedient of calling himself oppro- 
brious names. 

53. Method of Sermonizing. — His method of sermonizing and 
preaching is well worth noting. It was the age of heroic sermons, 



32 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



the length of which was counted, not by minutes, but by hours. 
When he was at a loss for a text, " he would make a prayer to the 
Holy Spirit of Christ, as well to find a text for him as to handle 
it." But he was far from a lazy rehance upon divine aid. He 
carefully examined his text in the original language, and con- 
sulted the commentaries upon it. He very properly chose his 




The North Church in Boston 



subjects, not with a view to display his abiUties, but to edify his 
hearers. Unlike his father, who laboriously committed his ser- 
mons to memory, he made use of extended notes, and thus gained 
both the finish of studied discourse, and the fervor of extempo- 
raneous speaking. 

54. Married Life. — The question of marriage was suggested, 
rfot by the drawing of a tender, irresistible passion, but by calm, 
rational considerations of utility. Accordingly, there was nothing 



COTTON MATHER 



33 



rashly precipitate in his courtship ; ^' he first looked up to heaven 
for direction, and then asked counsel of his friends." The person 
fixed upon at last as his future companion was the daughter of 
Colonel Philips of Charlestown, to whom he was shortly after- 
wards married. '^ She was a comely, ingenious woman, and an 
agreeable consort." This union, as also his second marriage, was 
a happy one ; but it is a suggestive fact that his third wife is referred 
to in his Diary only in Latin. She made his life wretched ; and 
it is still uncertain whether she was the victim of insanity or of a 
demoniac ill-temper. 

55. Laborious Ambition. — From childhood, as is the case 
with most persons of extraordinary gifts, he was conscious of 
his superior ability, and expected and labored to be a great man. 
He assiduously employed every moment of time, keeping up a 
perpetual tension of exertion. Over the door of his Hbrary he 
wrote in capital letters the suggestive legend, '' BE SHORT." 
His daily life was governed by a mechanical routine ; yet, after 
the Puritanic fashion, he upbraided himself with slothfulness. 

56. Literary Labors. — He mastered not only Latin, Greek, 
and Hebrew, which was expected of every scholar of the time, 
but also Spanish, French, and one of the Indian tongues, in most 
of which he published books. He had the marvellous power, 
possessed by Spurgeon, Gladstone, and Macaulay, of mastering 
the contents of a book with almost incredible rapidity. Accord- 
ing to the testimony of his son, " He would ride post through an 
author." He had the largest library in New England; and its 
contents were so at command, that " he seemed to have an inex- 
pressible source of divine flame and vigor." His literary activity 
was extraordinary. In a single year, besides keeping twenty 
fasts and discharging all the duties of a laborious pastorate, he 
pubHshed fourteen books. It is not strange that one of his 
contemporaries, in the presence of this extraordinary activity, 
should exclaim : — 

"Is the blest Mather necromancer turned?" 



34 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

57. '' Magnalia Christi." — Among his numerous works, there 
is one that stands with monumental pre-eminence; it is the 
*' Magnaha Christi Americana ; or, The Ecclesiastical History 
of New England," from its first planting in the year 1620 to the 
year of our Lord 1698. It may justly be regarded as the most 
important book produced in America during the seventeenth 
century. Its scope will appear from the topics treated of in its 
seven books. The first book gives an account of the settlement 
of New England ; the second contains '^ the lives of the governors 
and the names of magistrates that have been shields unto the 
churches of New England ; " the third recounts " the lives of 
sixty famous divines, by whose ministry the churches of New Eng- 
land have been planted and continued ; " the fourth is devoted 
to the history of Harvard College, and of " some eminent persons 
therein educated; " the fifth describes " the faith and order of 
the churches ; " the sixth speaks of " many illustrious discoveries 
and demonstrations of the divine providence in remarkable mercies 
and judgments " — the book in which, it is said, his soul most 
delighted ; and the seventh narrates '^ the afflictive disturbance 
which the churches of New England have suffered from their 
various adversaries," namely, impostors, Quakers, Separatists, 
Indians, and the Devil. 

58. Critique of the " Magnalia." — The work is a treasure- 
house of information. No historian was ever better equipped for 
his work. Besides having access to a multitude of original docu- 
ments that have since perished, he was acquainted with many 
of the leading men of New England, and had himself been identi- 
fied with various important political and ecclesiastical interests. 
Yet the manner in which he discharged the functions of historian 
is not altogether satisfactory. Perhaps he was too near the events 
to be strictly impartial. His personal feelings — his friendships 
or his animosities — were allowed, perhaps unconsciously, to color 
his statements ; and in regard to his facts, he is open to the very 
serious charge of being careless and inaccurate. While his work 
is indispensable for a thorough understanding of New England 



COTTON MATHER 



35 



history, it is always safe to have his statement of important facts 
corroborated by collateral testimony. 

59. Philanthropic Labors. — Notwithstanding his laborious ap- 
plication to reading and study, Cotton Mather w^as interested 
in a surprising number of philanthropic undertakings. He wrote 
a book entitled '' Bonifacius, an Essay upon the Good that is to 
be Devised and Designed, with Proposals of Unexceptionable 
Methods to do Good in the World," — a work that places phi- 
lanthropy upon a business basis, and anticipates many of the benev- 
olent associations of the present day. Of this book Benjamin 
Franklin says that it '^ perhaps gave me a turn of thinking, that had 
an influence on some of the principal future events of my life. ' ' ^ Cot- 
ton Mather sought to check the vice of drunkenness, and was perhaps 
our first temperance reformer. Though he purchased a slave (for 
slavery then existed in New England), he interested himself in the 
education of negroes, and at his own expense established a school for 
their instruction. He wrote a work on the Christianizing of the 
negroes, and noted in his Diary : '' My design is, not only to lodge a 
copy in every family in New England that has a negro in it, but also 
to send numbers of them into the Indies." He took an interest in 
foreign missions, and proposed to send Bibles and Psalters among 
the nations. 

60. Work on Witchcraft. — The darkest feature in the life of 
Cotton Mather — a feature which avenging critics have by no 
means lost sight of — is his connection with the witchcraft tragedy. 
In common with people of every class in his day, he believed in the 
reality of witchcraft. In 1685, the year he was ordained, he pub- 
lished a work entitled "Memorable Providences relating to Witch- 
craft," which had the misfortune of being quoted as an authority in 
connection with the Salem horrors. Looking upon himself as specially 
set for the defence of Zion, he gave himself with Old Testament 
zeal to the extermination of what he believed a work of the Devil. 

61. Attitude toward Vaccination. — Over against this dreadful 
delusion should be placed his heroic conduct in advocating vacci- 

^ Autobiography, Chap. L 



36 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

nation at a time when it was considered a dangerous and impious 
innovation. When the smallpox made its appearance in Boston, 
the physicians, with one honorable exception, were opposed to 
the newly advocated system of vaccination on the general prin- 
ciple, strange to say, that '' it was presumptuous in man to inflict 
disease on man, that being the prerogative of the Most High." 
The matter was discussed with great bitterness of feeling; and 
the mass of people, as well as the civil authorities, were against 
the new treatment. But Cotton Mather had been convinced of 
the efficacy of vaccination; and accordingly, though he knew it 
would cost him his popularity, and perhaps expose him to personal 
violence, he resolutely faced the popular clamor, and boldly vindi- 
cated the truth. It was only after the lapse of considerable time 
that he had the satisfaction of seeing the popular prejudice give 
way. 

62. Disappointed Ambition. — It was a great disappointment 
to Cotton Mather that he was never chosen president of Harvard 
College, a position to which he ardently, though as he thought 
unselfishly, aspired. On two occasions, when he confidently 
expected election, he was humiliated by seeing less learned men 
chosen for the place. He attributed his defeat to the influence 
of his enemies, and never for a moment suspected the real cause, 
which was a distrust, perhaps too well founded, of his prudence 
and judgment. 

63. Estimate of his Character. — He died Feb. 13, 1728. 
Though not a man of great original genius, his mind was mas- 
sive and strong. He had the quality which some have held to 
be the essential thing in genius, — the power of indomitable and 
systematic industry. His spiritual life, while influenced by 
Puritanic ideals, was profound ; and unbelief has sometimes 
mocked at experiences which it lacked the capacity to under- 
stand. He was followed to the grave by an immense procession, 
including all the high officers of the Province; and the general 
feeling was that a great man had fallen, the weight of whose 
life, in spite of imperfections, had been on the side of righteousness. 



COTTON MATHER 37 

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

For general bibliography see page 609. Illustrative anno- 
tated selections from Capt. John Smith and Cotton Mather will be 
found on pages 387-402 of this volume. 

Extracts from the minor writers are given in Stedman and 
Hutchinson's ''Library of American Literature" (15 volumes). 
Less extended but interesting extracts will be found in Cairns's 
" Early American Writers," Trent and Wells's '' Colonial Prose 
and Poetry," and Trent's " Southern Writers." 

Charles Dudley Warner's '' Life of John Smith " (Holt) ; Cap- 
tain John Smith, Harper 21: 721 (B. J. Lossing), Atlantic 76: 
350 (John Fiske), The Pocahontas Myth Exploded, North Am. 
Review 104:11 (Herbert Adams). For a defence of the Poca- 
hontas story, see Fiske's " Old Virginia and Her Neighbors." 

Barrett Wendell's " Cotton Mather " (Dodd) ; Cotton Mather, 
North Am. Review 51:1 (S. F. Haven), and 108: 337 (W. F. 
Poole). 

For the historic background of this period consult the major 
works on American History given in the bibliography. For a 
brief survey any of the standard school histories may be used. 
Fiske's " Old Virginia and Her Neighbors " and " Beginnings of 
New England," and Lodge's '' Short History of the English Colo- 
nies in America " will be found of special interest. For contem- 
porary sources, consult Albert B. Hart's " American History Told 
by Contemporaries " (Macmillan) or MacDonald's '' Documentary 
Source Book of American History " (Macmillan). In Hawthorne's 
" Grandfather's Chair " will be found many delightful narratives 
of New England life during this period, among which may be men- 
tioned ''The Pine-Tree Shilling," "The Indian Bible," "The 
Sunken Treasure," " Cotton Mather," " The Provincial Muster," 
and " The Old-Fashioned School." 

Many incidents, scenes, and characters from the First Colonial 
Period have appealed to our own and to British poets. The 
following poems are noteworthy : Whittier's " The Norsemen," 



^S AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Longfellow's " The Skeleton in Armor," Margaret J. Preston's 
" The Mystery of Cro-a-tan," James Barron Hope's " John 
Smith's Approach to Jamestown," Thackeray's " Pocahontas," 
Geo. P. Morris's " Pocahontas," Longfellow's " The Phantom 
Ship," Whittier's " The Garrison of Cape Ann," Fehcia Hemans's 
" Landing of the Pilgrims," Wordsworth's " The Pilgrim Fathers," 
Clinton Scollard's " The First Thanksgiving," Lucy Larcom's 
" Mistress Hale of Beverley," Whittier's '' John Underhill," 
Stedman's " Salem," Whittier's " St. John," James K. Pauld- 
ing's " Ode to Jamestown," and Longfellow's " The Courtship 
of Miles Standish." Many other poems dealing with this period 
will be found in Stevenson's '' Poems of American History " 
(Houghton). 

The following historical novels illustrate this period : Mary 
Johnston's "To Have and to Hold " (1621), Mrs. J. G. Austin's 
" Standish of Standish " (about 1620), J. G. Holland's " The Bay 
Path " (1638), Nathaniel Hawthorne's " Scarlet Letter " (1650), 
Mary E. Wilkins's " The Heart's Highway " (1682), and Amelia 
E. Barr's " The Black Shilling " (1691), introducing witchcraft 
trials at Salem and Boston. 



SECOND COLONIAL PERIOD 



REPRESENTATIVE WRITERS 

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN JONATHAN EDWARDS 

OTHER WRITERS 

NEW ENGLAND 

David Brainerd (17 18-1747). Missionary to the Indians. A man of strong 
mental powers, fervent zeal, and extensive knowledge. "Mirabilia 
Dei inter Indicos" and "Divine Grace Displayed" are made up of his 
missionary jountals. 

Mather Byles (i 706-1 788). Congregational preacher, poet, and wit, of 
Boston. He published a volume of poems in 1 736. 

Thomas Hutchinson (1711-1780). A native and the last royal governor of 
Massachusetts. The best American historian before the nineteenth century, 
his greatest work being "The History of the Province of Massachusetts 
Bay." 

Samuel Sewall (165 2-1 730). A graduate of Harvard, and chief-justice of 
Massachusetts in 1718. Among his works are "Answer to Queries respect- 
ing America," and especially his "Diary," which presents an interesting 
and graphic account of Puritan life in the seventeenth century. 

Michael Wigglesworth (1631-1705). Congregational clergyman at Maiden, 
Mass. His "Day of Doom," an epic of the Last Judgment, was for more 
than a century the most popular poem in New England. "God's Contro- 
versy with New England," written in a time of great drought, is also in 
verse. 

MIDDLE COLONIES 

William Livingston (17 23-1 790). A statesman, governor of New Jersey 
1 776-1 790. Author of "Philosophic Solitude" in verse, "Military Opera- 
tions in North America," and a "Digest of the Laws of New York." (See 
text.) 

39 



40 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Samuel Davies (1724-1761). Presbyterian clergyman, and fourth president 
of Princeton College. He wrote a number of hymns still in use, and 
published five volumes of sermons popular in their day. 

Thomas Godfrey (i 736-1763). First dramatic author in America. Served 
as a lieutenant in the colonial militia. Author of "Juvenile Poems on 
Various Subjects with the Prince of Parthia, a Tragedy," (See text.) 

VIRGINIA AND NORTH CAROLINA 

William Byrd (1674-1744). Founder of the cities of Richmond and Peters- 
burg. Author of the "History of the Dividing Line" between Virginia 
and North Carolina — "one of the most delightful of the literary legacies 
of the colonial age." 

James Blair (1656-1743). Founder of William and Mary College. Author 
of "The Present State of Virginia and the College," and "Our Saviour's 
Divine Sermon on the Mount." 

William Stith (1689-1755). President of William and Mary College, and 
author of the "History of the First Discovery and Settlement of Virginia" 
— "in accuracy of detail not exceeded by any American historical work." 

John Lawson (16 171 2). Surveyor-general of North Carolina, burned 

at the stake by the Indians. The story of his adventures and observa- 
tions was published under the title "History of North Carolina." 

Contemporary Writers in England 

John Locke (1632-1704); Joseph Butler (1692-1752); Daniel Defoe 
(1663-1731); Samuel Richardson (1689-1761); Henry Fielding 
(1707-1754); Jonathan Swift (1667-1745); James Thompson (1700- 
1748); Edward Young (1681-1765). 



II 

SECOND COLONIAL PERIOD 

(1689-1763) 

64. Growth of a Nation. — The early history of America 
has a peculiar interest for those who perceive the relation of its 
events to the subsequent development of the country. The 
growth of a great nation can be clearly traced step by step. 
Great interests were involved in the success or failure of ap- 
parently small enterprises. The life of a nation — principles, 
upon which the welfare of future millions depended — was 
often at stake in some obscure and apparently insignificant 
struggle. 

65. A Guiding Hand. — The history of this period, with 
its small exploring parties, savage massacres, and petty 
military campaigns, seems at first sight to be a confused mass 
of disconnected events. But in the life of nations, as of indi- 
viduals, "there is a divinity that shapes our ends;" and 
throughout all the maze of injustice, tyranny, and bloodshed, 
it is now possible to discern the divine purpose. God was 
keeping watch by the cradle of a great people. 

CONTEMPORARY EVENTS IN ENGLAND 

William and Mary, 1689-1702. George I, 17 14-1727. 

Anne, 1702-1714. George II, 1727-1760. 

King William's War, 1689-1697. King George's War, 1 741-1748. 

War of the Spanish Succession, 1701- Seven Years' War, 1 756-1 763. 

1714. Accession of George III, 1760. 

41 



42 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

66. New Stage of Progress. — With the beginning of the ' 
eighteenth century, America entered upon a new stage of 
progress. All the thirteen colonies, except Georgia, had been 
established. The toil and dangers of early settlement had been 
overcome. The colonies had largely increased in population ; 
and agriculture, manufacture, and commerce had made a 
substantial beginning. By the close of the period the popula- 
tion of the colonies had reached more than a million and a half. 
In 1738 forty-one topsail vessels, averaging a hundred and 
fifty tons, were built in Boston. 

67. Schools and Newspapers. — The educational interests 
of the colonies kept pace with their material advancement. 
In New England there was not an adult, born in this country, 
who could not read and write. During this period seven col- 
leges — Yale, Princeton, King's (now Columbia), Brown, 
Queen's (afterwards Rutgers), Dartmouth, and Hampden- 
Sidney — were founded. In 1704 the News-Letter, the first 
periodical of the New World, was published in Boston ; and 
before the close of the French and Indian War in 1763, ten 
other newspapers had made their appearance in various colo- 
nies. The press at last became free. Official censorship re- 
ceived its death-blow in New York in 1734, when Andrew 
Hamilton, an aged lawyer of Philadelphia, addressed the jury 
in behalf of an imprisoned printer : " The question before you 
is not the" cause of a poor printer, nor of New York alone ; 
it is the best cause — the cause of liberty. Every man who pre- 
fers freedom to a life of slavery will bless and honor you as men 
who, by an impartial verdict, lay a noble foundation for secur- 
ing to ourselves, our posterity, and our neighbors, that to 
which nature and the honor of our country have given us a 
right — the liberty of opposing arbitrary power by speaking 
and writing truth." 



SECOXD COLONIAL PERIOD 



43 



The Boil onNe ws-Letitcr. 

Fronj S^onDat April 17. to ^OnlUF ApnU4. ,704. 



Lr.T.'.-n f.jin^.Pef: from Dmrnh zJ. l» 4th. 170;. 

LKirers from SrrrUnJ bring lu the Copy of 
a Sheer lately Piintrd there, Intiiulid, A 
J. rftHMiif Aumfc, SQOlljtTid. In a Letter 
Jut} t CeutimcK in tie City, ic k'l FiiejiJ in 
tut rtuiuijt amtntiu^ lit frefen: Oen^tr if 
I f r^lr.fjiiu er:J if ihr i'l cie.icj.t J^eiiricn. 

Ih'i Letter tuiccj Notice, Thit Papifts fwum in 
liiii Naticii, that they trjffick more ivowcdlv than 
.^ l-jmicrly, & thit of lltr many Scores of Pncih and 
" jefijitei ire come iliicLcr froni Frcnce, ind gone to 
fh'. Nortb, to the Hi^libnds .fc other pliiccs of the 
Country. That the Muii.lirrs of the HighUndi aod 
North iavc io large Lifts of them to the Cotiunit- 
«« of the General AUimblv, to be bid before the 
t.-ivy-Cuundl. 

It likewifrobCrycs, that a great Number ofo- 
thtr !l'iffe£ked pcrfons ve come over from Frevt, 
vmder prcunceof accepcing hei Majcfty'j Gracious 
Indei;..-rty ; bjt, in rcaliry, to increafc Di7i£o{U in 
theKati„n. and tj entertain a CorrcfpondetK)e with 
/r/rnct; I'^Ht their ill Imetiticns are evident froai 
their taJltin.:; big, th<.ir owomg the Intertft of the ' 
pre'cndcd King Jajiui VIII. their tircrel Cabals, 
arid their buying up of Ami and Araaumtioii, . 
v/Herevcr :bey can nnd thctn. ' 

To tiiJi h? adds rt>c late VVritinii »ai AJLngs I 
of fcmed:Iaftcttcii perilns, uur.y v^fwhoir. iic fori 
'.h»t Prefcndrr, rhi' f-.—ni of thrm h^tif decJtrM I 
• hSy hjd rather embrace Poprry than conform to | 
•ne orcfrnt Govcmmenii tint ihcy lefufe to pray 
^or tne Qjccn, but ulc the ambiguous word Sijvc- j 
taign, ajTd Ionic of them pray in cxpiefs Words for 
(he King ana Royal Family ; ana the charitable 1 
and ccncrous Prince who has mew'd them fo much 
iviniir.ij".. He likcwifc takes notice of Ix-ttcii not 
lon.g ago found in Cypher, and dirrd?d to a 
Peiianlaicl/ tome thither trom Sc '.•tnudir.i. 



He. fij't tlut the greatcft Jacobites, who will not 
cjuiiin* uiemlclvcs by taking the Oaths to Her Ma- 
je't ,-j do row with the PapSls and tljcir Compani- 
on* trom 6t.Cnn'<ii»; let up for the Liberty 0! tie 
Suojeft, contrary to their tiwn Principles, but mcer- 
Iv Lo kcrp up a DiviGon in the Kadon. He adds, 
that they aggravate thofe ihinet which thePcopic 
complain oljas to EngUut^s rcfuiing to allow them 
• freedom or Trade, (sr. and do all they can to fo 
pitnt D\\ illoas b twixt the Nations^ and to obftrucl 
tbRedrcTs vf thofc things cumplain'd of. 

The Jacobires, he lays. Jo all they can to pcr- 
fcade theNation that tncir pr'jtcnjed King is a 
Proteiiant in his Heart, tho' he darts not declare it 
jLvhllc under tbe Power of Frxine ; that he is ac- 
Ciuisced with the Millakcs of his Father^s Go- 



Fromal! this he .txfcrs. That thev have hop- 3 of 
A^Ullance from Frtnct. othrrwifc they would nvvi 
be (o impudent , and he gives Re^^fons for his Ap- 

^w.^^i^^^'-^^^"^'' ^^ik o-^yl^ndT.oop. 
th.rherthuV,mtrr, 1. Becauli tTie£„^/^/, & DuL 

7^lTa';^K'' ^1 'l^PPok^y^U. He car. 
then beftfparc them, the Sealwi of Adion beyond 
Sea bcmg over. ?• The Expc-a^tion given h mofi 
confiderable number to j-jrn them, may incjuragr 
him to the undcrxakiug with ft-wrr Men if iie c7a 
but fend over a lufhaem number of OSiWi with 
Anns and Ammunition. 

He endeavours in the reft of his Letters to an- 
fwcr the ioolifh Pretences of the Pretenders being a 
Proteftint, and that he wiU govern us according to 

• • ^n r>:'', 'H' '*'"S ^«<1 "P '" the Reii- 
Eton and Pohticks of f.awf, he is bv Educaiirn a 
. ''^L,"""'' '° "^^ Libcrrv and R'eligion. Tnat 
ttic Obligations which he and his Family owe to 
the f/f/^t King, muft neceflirilv make him to be 
u *^ /l" r '^^■°'''-°. "^^ 'o wllow his Example , 
th-r .fhc Gtupo.nih'- Thjoae, the three N..tipn», 
muU be oblig'J lof ay the Debt which he owe* the 
f<tm.b Kmg for the Education of himfcJf; nnd foi 
I:jucrt4iaiii« his (uppofed Faihrt and Ks Foipily. 
And Goa the King tnuft rcftorc him by jlisTroop'^, 
jt ever he be rcftorttJ, he will (ee to fecuru 
his i,v/n Debt, before thofe Troops leave Bi «>*.•< 
Tb- Prcrtnder being a good Proficient in ihc t'reyuu 
ydP^.mifUSch.'y^U, L^ ...ll „.,.. U.infc, h:mreif 
futticientiy .ivened, but by the utter Ruipt cf h-, 
Proteftaiit SubJcTts, b,ith as 1 Icrcticks and Trai toi . 
The late Queen, his pretended Moti.er/ wTir in 
cold biood when (he was Qiucn of B'!)iitt^i,a\ii'.i 
to turn t,he Well of S.Mr/i,-.i into a liunHni Field 
wiJlbethc.nfurd.Inefo by the gr.^atell pal^ oT«v= 
Niiion ; and, i:-> doubt, is at Paias to (jave Uitpk- 
fended Son educated to her own MirvJ: Tna««i.c 
"•jf^y^it wm: a great Madaefs in the Nattonso 
uko a Prince bred up ia the horridSthc^^l <« Wrs« 
t.ude, Pcrfecution and Cruelty, 'and tiikd^ftth 
Kjjjcand Envy. Tlie y«iii;«, hj iiTS,.boUi in 
Seii.und and ac St. Ctinuint, ar< tfip.JiJeattchdlCT' 
their prrfc-nt Saalti, and knv»«»^^- jhc!tC%umy 
ftanccs cannot ix- much worfc than the V'^ajtej^l 
rrrfent, arr_the more ind nable t;/ the UtJdcitaJun^ 
H,; adds, 1 h.t the f/m»fc K'ng If..n7a ;acre <ami3 
be :i more effcihial way fwrbmr-irfc^rf;ve at j3 
Univerfal Monarchy, aad tjk-mne rlj IVoteJlfcit 
Intcrcll, than by (ctdng up thcfrettii.l.r^'ypoa the 
Throne of Great £'«ain, he will iti all" .pfo'iab.'ity 
attempt it ; and tho' he fliould be' psrf^oded that 
the Dehgn would mid-ury in the tJoft, yet ji can- 
not but reap fome AdvanUgC by iabr^B^ ihe 
three Nations. j >- 



Fac-simile of The Boston News-Letter 

68. Sense of Future Greatness. — It is not strange that the 
future greatness of America began to dawn upon the minds 
of men. The world had never before witnessed such a rapid 
increase of prosperity and power. In contemplating the rising 
glory of America an Italian poet sang that the spirit of ancient 



44 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Rome, immortal and undecayed, was spreading towards the 
New World. Bishop Berkeley, in prophetic vision, foretold 
a " golden age," when the arts would flourish, and when the 
race of '' wisest heads and noblest hearts " would be born : — 

"Not such as Europe breeds in her decay, 

Such as she bred when fresh and young, 
When heavenly flame did animate her clay, 
By future poets shall be sung. 

Westward the course of empire takes its way ; 

The first four acts already past, 
A fifth shall close the drama with the day; 

Time's noblest offspring is the last." 

69. Growing National Feeling. — In England it was be- 
lieved that the colonial leaders were secretly meditating and 
planning independence. Though this was undoubtedly a mis- 
take, yet a growing national feeling is clearly discernible in the 
utterances and relations of the colonies. It could not well be 
otherwise in the presence of their increasing prosperity and 
promising future, and of the strengthening ties that bound 
them together. The colonists were chiefly of Teutonic origin. 
They came to this country as voluntary exiles in order to escape 
religious or political oppression, and were thus united by the 
sympathy of suffering and sacrifice. For the most part 
they used the English language ; and though there were 
Puritans, Episcopalians, Quakers, Huguenots, and Presby- 
terians, they were nearly all warm adherents of Protestantism. 
Yet, in spite of these strong affinities, the colonies were for a 
long time jealous and distrustful of one another. Their inter- 
ests were not regarded as common ; and without the pressure 
of external circumstances they would probably have remained 
a long time separated. 



SECOND COLONIAL PERIOD 45 

70. Mistaken Policy of England. — This external pressure, 
which was necessary to bring the colonies into closer relation- 
ship, was not lacking. It came from two opposite sources. 
In the first place the policy of England was admirably adapted 
to develop a spirit of freedom, and to unite the colonies in a 
common resistance of oppression. At that time it was the pre- 
vailing view abroad that the colonies existed solely for the bene- 
fit of the mother country. Consequently, the measures of 
government were adopted, not for the welfare of the colonies, 
but for the profit of England. This unjust policy naturally 
provoked opposition in a people who had abandoned home and 
country for the sake of freedom. 

71. Purpose of France. — The other influence impelling 
the colonies to confederation came from the ambitious schemes 
of France. As will have been noticed, the English colonies 
extended along the Atlantic seaboard from Maine to Florida. 
Though their territory theoretically extended across the conti- 
nent, their settlements did not reach inland more than a hun- 
dred miles. To prevent the further extension of the English 
colonies, the French formed the magnificent plan of occupying 
the interior of the continent, and thus of confining their enemies 
to a narrow belt on the Atlantic coast. They already had 
possession of Canada ; and ascending the St. Lawrence, they 
established forts and trading-posts along the southern shores 
of the Great Lakes, and thence down the Mississippi to New 
Orleans. Having discovered the Mississippi, they laid claim 
to all the territory drained by its waters ; that is to say, to the 
magnificent empire lying between the Allegheny and the 
Rocky Mountains. " If the French," wrote the governor of 
New York in 1687, '' have all that they pretend to have dis- 
covered in these parts, the king of England will not have a 
hundred miles from the sea anywhere." A conflict between 



46 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

the English and the French thus became inevitable ; and the 
stake involved was nothing less than the Hfe of the English 
colonies, and the possession of the American continent. In 
the presence of this conflict, the instinct of self-preservation 
drew the colonies into closer sympathy and union. 

72. A Long Struggle. — The struggle between England and 
France for the possession of America — a struggle that lasted 
with intermissions for more than seventy years — began in 
1689, the dividing-point between the two colonial periods. 
First came King William's War, when Louis XIV espoused the 
cause of James II, and Count Frontenac was sent to be gov- 
ernor of Canada, with orders to conquer New York. Then 
followed in quick succession Queen Anne's War, or the War of 
the Spanish Succession ; King George's War, or the War of the 
Austrian Succession ; and lastly, the Seven Years' War, or the 
French and Indian War. 

These various wars, as their names generally indicate, grew 
out of conflicting European interests ; but since England and 
France, as hostile nations, were invariably opposed to each 
other, their colonies in America were always drawn into the 
conflict. The course of these successive wars, with their vary- 
ing fortunes and sickening massacres, cannot here be fol- 
lowed in detail. With the Treaty of Paris in 1763 the conflict 
in America finally came to an end by the cession of Canada 
and the Mississippi Valley to England. At one blow the 
French possessions in America and French schemes for a 
great western empire were forever swept away. 

73. Results of French Success. — Had the issue of this 
protracted struggle been in favor of France, the course of 
American history and of American literature would have been 
very different. French colonization in America represented 
three distinct tendencies, from all of which the English colonists 



SECOND COLONIAL PERIOD 47 

had broken away. First of all, in direct antagonism against 
popular government, Louis XIV stood for despotism. His 
attitude toward France is indicated in his famous saying, 
" UEtat cest moi.'^ In the second place, the colonization 
undertaken by the French carried with it the feudal system. 
Instead of the political and social equality recognized and en- 
couraged in the English colonies, it meant the class system of 
nobles and inferiors. In the third place, the success of the 
French meant the establishment of a wholly different form of 
belief and worship. The most enterprising and devoted of the 
French explorers were Jesuits, whose self-sacrificing work 
among the Indians sometimes reached the highest point of 
heroism. In short, if the French schemes had been successful, 
the result would have been, as was contemplated, a new medi- 
aeval France, which in its development, having possession of 
the largest and fairest part of the continent, would have driven 
the English colonies into the Atlantic Ocean. 

74. First Steps towards Union. — The first step towards 
a general union of the American colonies was taken in 1684. 




New York about 1700 

The French had encroached upon the territory of the Five 
Nations in New York ; and in preparation for the inevitable 



48 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

conflict, the Indians desired to form a treaty of peace with the 
English. Accordingly, a convention composed of delegates 
from Virginia, Maryland, New York, and Massachusetts, met 
at Albany. For the first time, the northern and the southern 
colonies came together to consider the common welfare. The 
conference resulted in a treaty ; and the Mohawk chief at its 
conclusion spoke better than he knew when he said : " We now 
plant a tree whose top will reach the sun, and its branches 
spread far abroad, so that it shall be seen afar off, and we shall 
shelter ourselves under it, and live in peace without molesta- 
tion." 

75. Attempts at Federation. — The necessity of a closer 
general union gradually became more apparent. In 1698 
William Penn proposed a plan of federation. In 1754 the Con- 
vention of Albany, composed of representatives from six of the 
colonies, resolved that a union ought to be formed, and ac- 
cordingly recommended the adoption of a constitution, the 
outHnes of which had been drawn up by FrankUn. But this 
constitution was disapproved in England, because it allowed 
too much freedom to the colonies ; and it was rejected by the 
colonies, because it gave too much authority to England. 
Thus, though the sentiment of union was steadily growing, 
it did not reach full practical realization. That consummation, 
which was to mark the birth of the American nation, was 
reserved for the following period. 

76. Conditions Favorable to Literature. — The changed 
conditions of American life during this period exerted a salutary 
influence upon literature. While the conditions were far from 
being ideal, they marked a considerable advance upon those of 
the earlier period, and thus gave a broader scope and better 
form to literary productions. The hard and unceasing struggle 
for existence characteristic of the greater part of the first 



SECOND COLONIAL PERIOD 49 

colonial period had given place to comparative ease and com- 
fort. While there was but little accumulation of wealth, there 
were, especially in the older colonies, many comfortable homes, 
in which books and leisure supplied the opportunity for culture. 
Several considerable cities — Boston, New York, and Phila- 
delphia — served in some degree as literary centres. The 
growing number of schools added to the popular intelligence. 
The newspapers furnished topics for general thought and dis- 
cussion, while the closer relations and larger interests of the 
colonies gave a wider horizon to the intellectual life of the 
people. 

77. Literary Expansion. — As will be seen on examining 
the list of writers prefixed to this period, the development 
of American literature followed the growth of the colonies. 
The middle colonies. New York, New Jersey, and Pennsyl- 
vania, now come into prominence. Though Franklin and 
Edwards, who have been chosen for special study as represen- 
tative writers, were born in New England, they both ended 
their lives in the middle colonies. Franklin's great life was 
spent chiefly in Philadelphia. The tide of authorship extended 
southward from Virginia ; and in the Carolinas and Georgia 
there were men who could wield the pen as well as the axe 
and the sword. 

78. Influence of Queen Anne Writers. — As might be 
naturally expected, there is a gradual extension of the range of 
subjects, and a perceptible advancement in the matter of 
style. Though historical and theological subjects are still 
predominant, philosophy, science, and Kterary miscellany 
receive increasing attention. Authors become more numerous, 
and the number of writers in verse is surprising. The influence 
of the Queen Anne writers — Dryden, Pope, Addison — is 
discernible in an improved Hterary form. Franklin formed his 



so 



AM ERIC AX LITERATURE 



style after the Spectator, and we catch an echo of Pope in Liv- 
ingston's " Philosophic SoHtude " : — 

''Let ardent heroes seek renown in arms, 
Pant after fame, and rush to war's alarms; 
To shining palaces let fools resort, 
And dunces cringe to be esteemed at court ; 
IMine be the pleasure of a rural hfe, 
From noise remote, and ignorant of strife ; 
Far from the painted belle, and white-gloved beau, 
The lawless masquerade, and midnight show ; 
From ladies, lap-dogs, courtiers, garters, stars. 
Fops, fiddlers, tyrants, emperors, and czars." 

79. First American Drama. — This period saw the birth 
of the lirst American drama, — a tragedy entitled " The 
Prince of Parthia," written by Thomas Godfrey. It is an 
oriental story of love, lust, jealousy, murder, ruin, cast in the 
large mould of the Elizabethan dramatists, and its style shows 
that the author had studied Shakespeare to good purpose. Take 
the following passage in illustration of its poetic vigor : — 

" Vardanes. Heaven! what a night is this ! 
Lysias. 'Tis filled with terror ; 

Some dread event beneath this horror lurks, 
Ordained by fate's irrevocable doom ; — 
Perhaps Arsaces' faU ; and angry heaven 
Speaks it in thunder to the trembling world. 
Vardanes. Terror indeed ! It seems as sickening Nature 
Had given her order up to general ruin : 
The heavens appear as one continued flame ; 
Earth with her terror shakes ; dim night retires, 
And the red lightning gives a dreadful day, 
While in the thunder's voice each sound is lost. 
Fear sinks the panting heart in every bosom ; 
E'en the pale dead, affrighted at the horror. 
As though unsafe, start from their marble jails. 
And howling through the streets are seeking shelter." 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 



80. General Popularity. — 
No other American, excepting 
only the Father of his Coun- 
try, is more interesting to 
people of every class than 
Benjamin Frankhn. His pop- 
ularity has been extraordi- 
nary. Since his death, a little 
more than a hundred years 
ago, no decade has passed 
without the publication of a 
biography or a new edition of 
his works. His "Autobiog- 
raphy," the most popular 
historical work of America, 
possesses a perennial interest. 
It is replete notJDnly with in- 
teresting incident, but also with genial humor and profound prac- 
tical wisdom. 

81. Youth and Education. — The facts of his life are so well 
known that it is not necessary to dwell upon them. He was 
born in Boston, Jan. 17, 1706 — the youngest of an old-fashioned 
family of ten children. From his father, who was a candle-maker 
and soap-boiler, he inherited not only a strong physical constitu- 
tion, but his " soHd judgment in prudential matters." He attended 
the free grammar schools of Boston about a year, and gave prom- 
ise of becoming a good scholar; but owing to the straitened cir- 
cumstances of his father, he was taken away in order to cut wicks, 
mould candles, and run errands — all which he heartily disliked. 

51 




Benjamin Franklin 



52 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

82. Fondness for Reading. — From childhood he was passion- 
ately fond of reading, and he used the little money that came 
into his hands to buy books. His first purchase was Bunyan's 
'' Pilgrim's Progress," which after being read and re-read was 
sold to buy Burton's '' Historical Collections " — a class of writ- 
ings of which he was specially fond. Among the books of this 
early reading were Plutarch's '' Lives " and Mather's '' Essay 
to do Good," which he specially mentions as exerting a salutary 
influence upon his mind and character. He did not escape the 
common temptation of bookish youths to attempt poetry, and 
wrote two ballads which, in spite of a flattering success at the time, 
he afterwards characterized, and no doubt justly, as '^ wretched 
stuff." From the danger of becoming a sorry poet he was timely 
rescued by his father, who with Philistine coldness called his atten- 
tion to the fact that " verse-makers were generally beggars." 

83. Fluency and Style. — But his literary instincts were not to 
be quenched ; and though he gave up poetry, he cultivated prose 
with great ardor. To increase his fluency, he was accustomed 
to engage in discussion with another literary lad by the name of 
Collins; but he had the good sense to escape the disputatious 
habit which this practice is in danger of developing, and which 
wise people, he tells us, seldom fall into. He modelled his style 
after Addison's Spectator, which was then a novelty in the colonies. 
But he had too much force of mind and character to become a 
mere imitator; and through a laborious apprenticeship he de- 
veloped a style that is admirable for its simplicity, clearness, and 
force. 

84. First Literary Effort. — He was early encouraged in his 
literary efforts. At the age of twelve he had been apprenticed 
to his brother James to learn the printing business. Here he 
worked on the New England Courant, the second newspaper 
that appeared in America. Some of the contributors occasionally 
met in the office to discuss the little essays that had appeared in 
the paper. Having caught the mania for appearing in print, 
and fearing to have his productions rejected if the authorship 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 53 

were known, he disguised his hand, wrote an anonymous paper, 
and sUpped it at night under the door of the printing-house. It 
was found next morning, and discussed by the Uttle company that 
called in as usual. '' They read it," he says, '' commented on it 
in my hearing, and I had the exquisite pleasure of finding it met 
with their approbation, and that, in their different guesses at the 
author, none were named but men of some character among us 
for learning and ingenuity." It is not strange that he continued 
his anonymous communications for some time. 

85. In Philadelphia. — The apprenticeship, though not till he 
had mastered the printer's trade, came to an abrupt termina- 
tion. Long dissatisfied with the ill-treatment received from his 
brother, who was a high-tempered, overbearing man, he at last 
ran away at the age of seventeen. He landed first at New York ; 
and failing to find employment there, he continued his journey 
to Philadelphia. The figure he cut that first Sunday morning 
as he walked the streets with a roll under each arm, and excited 
the laughter of the young lady he afterwards married, is familiar 
to every one. He found employment, and attracted the notice of 
Governor Keith, who after a time persuaded him to go to England 
for a printer's outfit. 

86. In England. — On reaching England, he found that he had 
been duped by Keith, who belonged to that class of men lavish 
in promises but miserly in help. The letter of credit which the 
governor had promised was wanting. In his embarrassment, 
Franklin was advised by a prudent business man whom he had 
met on the vessel, to seek employment at his trade. '^ Among 
the printers here," his friend argued, " you will improve yourself, 
and when you return to America, you will set up to greater advan- 
tage." This advice he wisely followed, and successively worked 
in two large printing-houses, where he used his eyes to good ad- 
vantage. He practised his usual industry and temperance, and 
commanded the respect of his associates. 

87. Return to Philadelphia. — After spending eighteen months 
in London, where his Hfe morally was far from being a model, 



54 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



he received an advantageous offer to return to Philadelphia and 
enter a store as clerk. After a promising beginning, this arrange- 
ment was in a few months brought to an end by the merchant's 
death. Franklin then returned to printing, and engaged with 
Keimer, for whom he had worked before going to England. The 
deficiencies of the printing-office were supplied by FrankHn's 



fnv' i^^¥tp 




Franklin's Printing Press 

ingenuity; for he cast type, prepared engravings, made ink, was 
'' warehouse man, and, in short, quite 3i factotum.^' But as he taught 
the other workmen of the office, among whom were " a wild Irish- 
man " and " an Oxford scholar," his services became less neces- 
sary ; and on the first opportunity his employer provoked a quarrel, 
and brought the engagement to an end. This led to Franklin's 
setting up for himself ; and he now entered upon a career of unin- 
terrupted prosperity, which was to continue for more than sixty 
years. 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 55 

88. The Junto. — But in the midst of his business projects, 
he did not neglect his literary culture. He formed a club, which 
was called the Junto, and to which most of his friends of literary 
taste belonged. Its object was mutual improvement by means 
of essays and discussions. For greater convenience of reference, 
a library was formed, each member of the club loaning such books 
as he could spare. Afterwards Franklin started a subscription 
library, the first of its kind in America. The club continued for 
nearly forty years, and was the best school of philosophy, morality, 
and politics in the province. 

89. Self-Control and Humility. — Beyond most men, Franklin 
had the power of self-control. He was thus able from early 
manhood to bring his conduct under the direction of principles 
which he had deliberately adopted in the light of reason. When 
he w^as told by a Quaker friend that he was generally thought 
to be proud, and when he was satisfied of the fact by the evidence 
adduced (it would have been hard to convince most men), he at 
once added humility to the list of virtues in which he was to exer- 
cise himself; and he succeeded in acquiring at least its outward 
expression. He gave up his dogmatic manner in conversation 
and argument ; and in place of positive assertion, he formed the 
habit of introducing his opinions with modest diffidence. He 
recognized the truth of Pope's lines : — 

"Men must be taught, as if you taught them not, 
And things unknown proposed as things forgot." 

90. Habit of Modest Statement. — He accustomed himself to 
introduce his statements with " I conceive," '' I apprehend," 
" It appears to me at present," and other similar expressions. 
'' And this mode," he says, '' which I at first put on with some 
violence to natural inclination, became at length easy, and so 
habitual to me, that perhaps for the last fifty years no one has 
ever heard a dogmatical expression escape me. And to this 
habit (after my character of integrity) I think it principally owing 
that I had early so much weight with my fellow citizens, when I 



56 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

proposed new institutions, or alterations in the old ; and so much 
influence in public councils, when I became a member ; for I was 
but a bad speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in 
my choice of words, hardly correct in language, and yet I generally 
carried my point." All which is delightfully frank, and takes us, 
as it were, behind the scenes. 

91. Shrewdness and Industry. — To return to his printing busi- 
ness, he pushed it with great shrewdness and energy, and with 
his usual frankness he lets us into what he considers the secret 
of his success. '' In order to secure my credit and character as 
a tradesman, I took care not only to be in reality industrious 
and frugal, but to avoid the appearances to the contrary. I 
dressed plain, and was seen at no places of idle diversion. 
I never went out a fishing or shooting ; a book, indeed, sometimes 
debauched me from my work, but that was seldom, was private, 
and gave no scandal ; and to show that I was not above my busi- 
ness, I sometimes brought home the paper I purchased at the 
stores, through the streets on a wheelbarrow. Thus being es- 
teemed an industrious, thriving young man, and paying duly 
for what I bought, the merchants who imported stationery solicited 
my custom ; others proposed supplying me with books, and I went 
on prosperously." 

92. Newspaper Publisher. — As opportunity afforded, he judi- 
ciously increased his business, publishing a newspaper which 
became the most influential in the colonies, and opening a sta- 
tioner's shop. He regarded his newspaper as a means of benefiting 
the public ; and besides reprinting extracts from the Spectator, he 
frequently contributed little essays of his own. Among these 
he mentions " a Socratic dialogue, tending to prove that, what- 
ever might be his parts and abilities, a vicious man could not prop- 
erly be called a man of sense." 

93. " Poor Richard's Almanac." — In 1732 he began the publi- 
cation of an Almanac under the name of Richard Saunders; it 
was continued about twenty-five years, and was commonly called 
'' Poor Richard's Almanac." It had an annual sale of about ten 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 



57 



thousand copies, and proved quite a profitable undertaking. 
Considering it a useful means of conveying instruction to the com- 
mon people, he filled every av^ailable corner '' with proverbial 
sentences, chiefly such as in- 
culcated industry and frugal- 
ity as the means of procuring 
wealth, and thereby securing 
virtue ; it being more difficult 
for a man in want to act 



Poor Richard, 1733. 



A N 



Almanack 



For the Year ofChrift 



7 






35 



Being the Firft ifrer LEAP YEAR; 



7241 

5742 

5 OS: 



3y the Account ot the EaiUfii Grrtks 
By the Latin Cuucch, whrn O cm. y 
by the Coinpiit..tuui of U'.IV 
Qv (he Rom^n Chronology 
By the Jcav/*- Rabhics 

IVherein u coutaimd 
The Lunations, Edipfes. jujgmcnr o( 

tlic Wc.uhcr, '^pfinp Tides, PlamfU Motions & 
fi'.umji AfpecJs, San ji.J Nloon*-> Rifin^ and Sct- 
tinj;. Length of Days. Ti'"i- of Hi{^h Water, 
Faiii, Coarrs, and obr.Tvjhlc Days 

Fitted ro the Latitude oi f'orry Dcgrres, 
ar.,i a Mcridun of Fi v Hours VVcfl from Lmtdon, 
bur m.iv without Icnhhlc ILrror. (cive all the ad- 
jacint Places, even from Seu-jouniilanJ to South' 



always honestly, as, to use 
here one of those proverbs, 
it is hard for an empty sack 
to stand upright. ^^ 

These proverbs, very few 
of which were original, repre- 
sent the practical wisdom of 
many nations and ages. In 
1758 he brought the principal 
ones together in the form of 
a connected discourse, which 
is supposed to be delivered 
by a wise old man to the 
crowd attending an auction. 
"The piece," to give Frank- 
lin's account of it, "being 
universally approved, was 
copied in all the newspapers 
of the American continent, 
reprinted in Britain on a large 
sheet of paper, to be stuck 
up in houses; two translations were made of it in France, and 
great numbers bought by the clergy and gentry, to distribute 
gratis among their poor parishioners and tenants. In Pennsylvania, 
as it discouraged useless expense in foreign superfluities, some 
thought it had its share of influence in producing that growing 



B y /i ICHJK D SJUSDE R S, Phi lom. 



P H I L A D R L P H r A : 

Piinicd end fo'd by H. FK.'.'KK'./K at the New 

Primintj C)i?icc near tlic Marker 

Tlx Tlii:d Imrrcii'ion. . — 



Fac-simile of 



Page of Poor Richard's 
Almaxac 



58 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

plenty of money, which was observable for several years after its 
publication." 

94. Interested in Public Affairs. — By this time Franklin had 
become a prominent person in the community ; and his business 
success having put him in easier circumstances, he was able to 
turn his attention more fully to public affairs. In 1736 he was 
chosen clerk of the General Assembly, and the following year 
he was appointed postmaster at Philadelphia. As a public- 
spirited citizen he sought to improve the condition of the city, 
and to this end he organized a regular police force, supported 
by taxation, and a voluntary fire company. When the Quaker 
Assembly refused to pass a militia law during the war of the Span- 
ish Succession, he strongly set forth the defenceless condition of 
the province, and proposed the organization of a voluntary body 
of troops. The success of the enterprise was astonishing. At a 
public meeting in Philadelphia, the enrolment numbered more 
than five hundred in a single evening; and including the enlist- 
ment in the country, the number of volunteers at length reached 
ten thousand men, who formed themselves into companies and 
regiments, chose officers, and provided themselves with arms. 

95. Honors and Educational Activity. — Labors and honors 
were now heaped upon him. He was appointed postmaster- 
general for America. Both Harvard and Yale honored him with 
the master's degree. He was the chief promoter in establishing 
an academy which afterwards became the University of Pennsyl- 
vania. In his educational views he was progressive beyond his 
time. He deserves a place among educational reformers. While 
building up his business, he had also gained a reading knowledge 
of French, Italian, and Spanish. From these he passed to Latin, 
for which he found the " preceding languages had greatly smoothed 
the way." Thus he was led by experience to recognize the truth 
of the maxim of Comenius, that " the nearer should precede the 
more remote." Hence he argued, as the philosopher Locke had 
done before him, that the ancient languages should be approached 
through the study of the modern languages. 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 59 

96. Plan for Colonial Union. — In 1754 he was appointed a 
delegate to the Albany convention to consult with the Six Nations 
in regard to the common defence of the country against the French. 
It was then that he proposed '' a plan for the union of all the 
colonies under one government, so far as might be necessary for 
defence and other important general purposes." It always re- 
mained his opinion that the adoption of this plan of union would 
have averted or certainly delayed the conflict with the mother 
country. " The colonies so united," he wrote in his old age, 
'' would have been sufficiently strong to have defended themselves ; 
there would then have been no need of troops from England ; of 
course the subsequent pretext for taxing America, and the bloody 
contest it occasioned, would have been avoided. But such mis- 
takes are not new ; history is full of the errors of states and princes. 

'Look round the habitable world, how few 
Know their own good, or knowing it, pursue.'" 

97. Defence of Western Pennsylvania. — In Braddock's disas- 
trous campaign, Franklin rendered the proud and over-confident 
general important aid ; and if his prudent counsel had been fol- 
lowed, victory would have taken the place of defeat. Later he 
was commissioned to take charge of the defence of the western 
frontier of Pennsylvania, and discharged his difficult task in an 
energetic and successful manner. He knew the art of managing 
men, and under his direction three forts or stockades were built 
and provisioned in a short time. 

98. Scientific Experiments. — In 1746 Franklin began his 
electrical experiments, which in a few years gave him a reputa- 
tion abroad as a philosopher. Besides a number of new experi- 
ments invented by him, he was the first to point out clearly the 
existence of positive and negative electricity, and by his well- 
known experiment with the kite to prove the identity of light- 
ning and electricity. His experiments and conclusions were 
set forth in various papers with the lucidity characteristic of his 
thought and style. His essays were read before the Royal Society, 



6o AMERICAN LITERATURE 

published in England, and afterwards, through the influence of 
the great naturalist Buff on, also in France. 

Though his views were attacked at various times, he abstained 
from all controversy on principle, and left his conclusions to take 
care of themselves. When urged, on one occasion, to defend his 
invention of the lightning-rod, he replied : ''I have never entered 
into any controversy in defence of my philosophical opinions ; I 
leave them to take their chance in the world. If they are right, 
truth and experience will support them; if wrong, they ought to 
be refuted and rejected. Disputes are apt to sour one's temper 
and disturb one's quiet." In recognition of his important contri- 
butions to electrical science, he was elected a member of the Royal 
Society and awarded the Copley medal for the year 1753. Among 
the scientists of the eighteenth century Franklin occupies a high 
rank. 

99. Honors Abroad. — It would extend this sketch too far to 
trace in detail Franklin's labors abroad, first as the represen- 
tative of Pennsylvania, and afterwards of the United States. 
In England he was cordially received as a philosopher and states- 
man. The universities of St. Andrews and Oxford conferred upon 
him the degree of Doctor of Laws. Learned societies enrolled his 
name in their membership. The municipality of Edinburgh gave 
him the freedom of the city. In France he received a greater 
ovation than had been accorded Voltaire. The people were enthu- 
siastic ; the nobility feted him, medals and medallions were struck 
off in great numbers. A Frenchman gave brilliant expression to 
Franklin's achievements in the famous line : — 

"Eripuit coelo fulmen, sceptrumque tyrannis." ^ 

It was chiefly through his influence that the independence of 
the United States was recognized by France, and that French 
aid was extended for its achievement. He was one of the five 
commissioners appointed by Congress to negotiate the peace that 
put an end to the War of the Revolution in 1782. 

^ He has seized the Hghtning from heaven, and the sceptre from tyrants. 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 6l 

100. Governor of Pennsylvania. — In 1785, at his own request, 
he was relieved of his duties as minister to France, and returned 
to his native country. He received an enthusiastic welcome. 
After his fifty years of public service, it was his desire to spend 
his few remaining days in quiet. " I am again surrounded by 
my friends," he writes, '' with a fine family of grandchildren 
about my knees, and an. affectionate, good daughter and son-in- 
law to take care of me." His hopes, however, were disappointed. 
He was called to the gubernatorial chair of Pennsylvania for three 
successive years — the limit fixed by law. In 1787 he was a 
member of the convention to frame the Constitution of the United 
States. It was owing, perhaps, to his influence that the Constitu- 
tion was unanimously adopted. 

101. Closing Years. — The two or three last years of his Hfe 
were a fitting close to his extraordinary career. Though suffer- 
ing at times much physical pain, he lived in comfortable retire- 
ment, in the midst of his grandchildren and the company of friends. 
He retained his faculties to the last ; and that genial humor which 
characterized his hfe never deserted him. His manners were 
easy and obliging; and his large benevolence diffused about him 
an atmosphere of unrestrained freedom and satisfaction. He 
looked forward to his approaching end with philosophic composure. 
" Death I shall submit to," he said, '' with the less regret as, 
having seen during a long life a good deal of this world, I feel a 
growing curiosity to be acquainted with some other; and can 
cheerfully, with filial confidence, resign my spirit to the conduct 
of that great and good Parent of mankind who has so graciously 
protected and prospered me from my birth to the present hour." 
The end came the 17th of April, 1790, at the age of eighty-four 
years; and his body, followed by an immense throng of people, 
was laid to rest by that of his wife in the yard of Christ Church. 



JONATHAN EDWARDS 




Jonathan Edwards 



102. Standard of Judg- 
ment. — In considering a 
man's life, we should take 
into consideration its his- 
toric environment. We 
should judge it, not by the 
standards of our day, but 
by the standards then pre- 
vailing. Only for moral ob- 
liquity must there be small 
allowance ; for whatever 
may be the laxity of the 
times, every man has in 
his breast a monitor against 
vice. 



103. A Great, Austere Life. — If we study Jonathan Edwards 
with proper sympathy, we must pronounce his life a great life. 
Though his character was colored by Puritan austerity, and his 
religious experience involved what many believe to have been 
morbid emotions, there is no questioning the fact of his masterful 
intellect and his stainless integrity. He certainly was not, what 
a ferocious critic has styled him, a theological '' monomaniac." 
There is much less reason to dissent from the judgment of another 
reviewer who says of him : " Remarkable for the beauty of his 
face and person, lordly in the easy sweep and grasp of his intellect, 
wonderful in his purity of soul and in his simple devotion to the 
truth, the world has seldom seen in finer combination all the great 
qualities of a godlike manhood." ^ 

1 Bibliotheca Sacra, xxvi. 255. 
62 



JONATHAN EDWARDS 63 

104. Parentage and Early Training. — Jonathan Edwards, who 
was born at East Windsor, Conn., Oct. 5, 1703, was of excellent 
Puritan stock. His father, the Rev. Timothy Edwards, was for 
sixty-four years the honored pastor of the Congregational church 
of East Windsor; and his mother was the daughter of the Rev. 
Solomon Stoddard, who was pastor at Northampton, Mass., 
for more than fifty years, and one of the most eminent ministers 
of his day. From his mother, who was a woman of superior 
ability and excellent education, he inherited not only his delicate 
features and gentle disposition, but also a large measure of his 
intellectual force. His father, who was distinguished as a Latin, 
Greek, and Hebrew scholar, was accustomed for many years, in 
addition to his regular ministerial duties, to prepare young men 
for college. With no mediaeval prejudice against the higher 
education of woman, he instructed his daughters (there were no 
fewer than ten of them) in the same studies pursued by the young 
men. It was in this cultivated and studious home, under the 
refining influence and instruction of his older sisters, that young 
Edwards received his preparatory training. 

105. Observation of Nature. — In his childhood he exhibited 
extraordinary precocity. He was not, as sometimes happens, so 
absorbed in his books as to lose taste for the observation of nature. 
For an English correspondent of his father, he wrote at the age 
of twelve years an elaborate paper upon spiders, which shows re- 
markable powers of observation. It is said actually to have 
enlarged the boundaries of scientific knowledge. Had the young 
author given himself to natural science, there can be no doubt that 
he would have stood in the foremost rank. 

106. At Yale. — In 1716, when in his thirteenth year, young 
Edwards entered Yale College. It was the day of small things 
with the institution ; and, the president residing at a distance of 
forty miles, the government and discipline were chiefly in the 
hands of tutors. The result was, as might be expected, a good 
deal of idleness and disorder among the students. But such 
was young Edwards's thirst for knowledge that he not only re- 



64 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

frained from the insubordination of his fellow-students, but by 
his scholarship and integrity retained their respect and confidence. 

107. Reading and Study. — At the age of fourteen he read 
Locke's " Essay on the Human Understanding " ; and though 
it can hardly be classed as juvenile literature, he declared that 
in the perusal of it he enjoyed a far higher pleasure " than the 
most greedy miser finds, when gathering up handfuls of silver 
and gold from some newly discovered treasure." While pro- 
ficient in every department of study, he excelled especially in 
mental science. He had been trained by his father to make 
much use of the pen in studying ; and while still an undergraduate 
he began to put into clear shape his ideas about the leading terms 
of mental philosophy, such as cause, existence, space, time, sub- 
stance, matter, and so on. His notebook of this period shows 
surprising depth of thought and lucidity of expression. At gradua- 
tion he stood head and shoulders above his class. 

108. Religious Experience. — Religion, which became the 
dominant interest of his subsequent life, engaged his attention 
toward the end of his college course. He passed through the 
deep spiritual conflicts that so often, especially under the Puri- 
tan type of faith, are associated with profoundly earnest natures. 
But at last his spiritual struggles issued in a sweet " sense of the 
glorious majesty and grace of God " — a feeling that added a 
strange charm to external nature. " The appearance of every 
thing," he says, " was altered. There seemed to be, as it were, 
a calm, sweet cast, or appearance of divine glory, in almost every 
thing." 

109. Preacher and Tutor. — After graduating, he spent nearly 
two years at the college in theological study. At the age of nine- 
teen he was licensed to preach the gospel, and sent to New York 
to minister to a small congregation of Presbyterians. Though 
he filled the pulpit with great acceptance, the relation did not 
become permanent, and in 1723 he was elected tutor in Yale 
College. At this time the office of tutor was a trying position, 
and it is a significant fact that a year later he wrote : "I have now 



JONATHAN EDWARDS 65 

abundant reason to be convinced of the troublesomeness and vexa- 
tion of the world, and that it never will be another kind of a world." 
But such was his skill in discipline and success in instruction, that 
President Stiles spoke of him and his associates as " the pillar 
tutors, and the glory of the college at this critical period." 

110. Seventy R»esolutions. — In his twentieth year, and just 
before entering upon his tutorship, he drew up seventy resolutions 
for the government of his heart and life. Though they are tinged 
with a Puritan austerity, and unduly accentuate, perhaps, the re- 
ligious element of life, they reveal an extraordinary depth and 
earnestness of character. He was accustomed to read them over 
once a week. They are included in the " illustrative selections," 
as revealing the secret of his earnest, laborious life. 

111. Domestic Life,. — In 1726 Jonathan Edwards was called as 
pastor to Northampton, where the next twenty-four years of his 
life were passed. The following year he was married to Miss 
Pierrepont of New Haven, a lady who added to unusual intellec- 
tual gifts and attainments an executive ability and considerate 
sympathy that fitted her in an eminent degree to be the helpmate 
of her husband. She relieved him entirely of domestic cares. 
There is a tradition that he did not know his own cows. Though 
his constant inattention to the concerns of his household hardly 
rendered him a model husband, he gave himself with all the more 
devotion to his sermons and theological studies. He regularly 
spent thirteen hours a day in his study ; and when out for recrea- 
tion, which was usually on horseback, he carried pen and paper 
with him to note down such valuable thoughts as might occur to 
him. In order to keep up the necessary physical strength for his 
great intellectual labors, he was careful to take regular exercise, 
and observed the strictest temperance in eating and drinking. 
He was exceedingly thorough in his methods of study. He could 
never be satisfied with hasty or superficial work ; and as we read 
his sermons and numerous volumes, his clearness of view, his power 
of analysis, and his irresistible cogency of reasoning, afford con- 
tinual astonishment and pleasure. 



66 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

112. Pulpit Power. — Among the many able preachers of 
America, he stands as one of the greatest. He dwelt habitually 
on the weightiest doctrines of the Christian faith; and in his 
treatment of them there is a Miltonic grasp of thought and vigor 
of language. He was not eloquent in manner or expression; 
his voice was weak, and he kept his eyes closely fixed on his manu- 
script; but such was his overpowering spiritual earnestness that 
his sermons were sometimes startling in their effect. When he 
preached his famous sermon, '' Sinners in the Hands of an Angry 
God," the feelings of his audience deepened into an insupportable 
agony; and at last the cry burst forth, " What must we do to be 
saved? " In those days people did not go to church to be enter- 
tained; and with an endurance that seems almost incredible 
now, they listened, with unflagging attention, to closely reasoned 
sermons two hours long. It was for audiences of this kind that 
the sermons of Edwards were prepared ; and to such persons 
as take them up with sufficient determination, and are able to 
appreciate their powerful reasoning, they appear veritable master- 
pieces. 

113. ''Great Awakening." — Under his preaching in 1735 
there began at Northampton a new interest in religion, which 
afterwards extending throughout the American colonies has 
been known as the " Great Aw^akening." The celebrated White- 
field contributed much to this revival. Though attended at times 
with great excitement and extravagance, this movement upon 
the whole seems to have been helpful to morality and piety. It 
was in this connection that Edwards wrote " Some Thoughts 
concerning the Present Revival of Religion in New England " 
— a work of such spiritual discernment, practical wdsdom, and con- 
servative judgment, that it has since been regarded as an authority 
on the subject. He was not friendly to the fanatical tendencies 
sometimes exhibited during the " Great Awakening " ; and in 
order to distinguish between the true and the false evidences of 
a Christian life, he wrote his " Treatise concerning the Religious 
Affections." Though defective in style, as indeed are all his 



JONATHAN EDWARDS 67 

works, it occupies a very high rank as a treatise on practical reli- 
gion. 

114. Controversy and Resignation. — For nearly twenty years 
Jonathan Edwards had a firm hold upon the affections of his 
people. Then there came a reaction, which finally resulted in 
his being ejected from his pastoral charge. Contrary to the 
prevaihng custom at Northampton and in other parts of New 
England, he maintained that only consistent Christians should 
be admitted to the Lord's Supper. A bitter controversy followed. 
Though contending with heroic courage for what he believed to 
be right, he constantly exhibited the beauty of a meek and for- 
giving spirit. He was finally forced to resign in 1750. 

115. Missionary Work. — In 1751 he was called to Stock- 
bridge, forty miles west of Northampton, to serve as pastor to 
a congregation there, and at the same time to act as missionary 
to a tribe of Indians in the vicinity. The congregation was small, 
and the work among the Indians unpromising. It was a field 
that especially required persistent personal work. Confirmed, 
as he was, in retiring and studious habits, it is not strange that, in 
spite of his faithful preaching, he was unsuccessful as a missionary. 
But among the unfavorable surroundings of a frontier settlement, 
he continued his literary labors, and composed his ablest works. 

116. ''Freedom of the Will." — In 1754 appeared his famous 
treatise entitled " Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will." It is 
his greatest work, the argument of which he had been slowly 
elaborating for years. It placed him at once, not only at the 
head of American writers, but among the world's profoundest 
thinkers. *' On the arena of metaphysics," says the great Dr. 
Chalmers, '' he stood the highest of all his contemporaries, and 
that, too, at a time when Hume was aiming his deadliest thrusts 
at the foundations of morality, and had thrown over the infidel 
cause the whole eclat of his reputation." According to the judg- 
ment of Sir James Mackintosh, '' in the power of subtile argument, 
he was, perhaps, unmatched, certainly unsurpassed among men." 
Among his other works published while he was at Stockbridge are 



68 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



" A Dissertation on the Nature of True Virtue," and a treatise on 
** Original Sin." 

117. President of Princeton. — In 1758 he was called to the 
presidency of the College of New Jersey, a position which he 
accepted with hesitancy and misgivings. He questioned his 
natural aptitude for the office, and hesitated to assume duties 
that would interfere with the studious habits of his life. In a 
letter to the trustees, in which he speaks with great frankness, 
he furnishes some interesting facts about his manner of life. " My 




College of New Jersey in 1758 (Now Princeton University) 

method of study," he says, " from my first beginning the work 
of the ministry, has been very much by writing ; applying myself, 
in this way, to improve every important hint ; pursuing the clue 
to my utmost, when any thing in reading, meditation, or conver- 
sation, has been suggested to my mind, that seemed to promise 
light in any weighty point ; thus penning what appeared to me 
my best thoughts, on innumerable subjects, for my own benefit." 
In the same letter he speaks of a great work that he had on his 
'' mind and heart " ; namely, his " History of the Work of Re- 
demption." 



JONATHAN EDWARDS 69 

118. "History of Redemption." — The plan, as he outlines 
it, reminds us of Milton and Dante. '' This history," he says 
'' will be carried on with regard to all three worlds, heaven, earth, 
and hell ; considering the connected, successive events and alter- 
ations in each so far as the Scriptures give any light ; introducing 
all parts of divinity in that order which is most Scriptural and 
most natural, a method which appears to me the most beautiful 
and entertaining, wherein every divine doctrine will appear to 
the greatest advantage, in the brightest light, and in the most 
striking manner, showing the admirable contexture and harmony 
of the world." This work, so grandly outlined, was left unfinished 
at his death ; but the manuscript sermons, which formed the basis 
of it, were reduced to the form of a treatise by his friend Dr. 
Erskine of Edinburgh, and the work, which has had a wide cir- 
culation, first appeared in that city in 1777. 

119. Last Days. — He was inaugurated as president of the Col- 
lege of New Jersey in 1758, but performed the duties of his office 
less than five weeks. The smallpox having made its appearance 
in Princeton, he deemed it advisable to be inoculated. At that 
time inoculation was regarded as a more serious thing than at 
present. The trustees were consulted, and gave their consent. 
A skilful physician was engaged to come from Philadelphia to 
perform the operation ; but in spite of all precautions, the inocula- 
tion terminated fatally. He died March 22, 1758, in the fifty-fifth 
year of his age. In his last hours he retained the beautiful faith 
and resignation that had characterized his active life. Shortly 
before he expired, some friends, not thinking that he heard them, 
were lamenting the loss that his death would bring to the college 
and the church. Interrupting them he said, " Trust in God, and 
ye need not fear." These were his last w^ords. 

120. A Biographer's Estimate. — '' Other men have, no doubt, 
excelled him in particular qualities or accomplishments. There 
have been far more learned men ; far more eloquent men ; far 
more enterprising and active men, in the out-door work of the 
sacred office. But, in the assemblage and happy union of those 



yo AMERICAN LITERATURE 

high qualities, intellectual and moral, which constitute finished 
excellence, as a man, a Christian, a divine, and a philosopher, he 
was, undoubtedly, one of the greatest and best men that have 
adorned this, or any other country, since the ApostoHc age." 



FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

Consult the general bibliography, page 609. Illustrative 
annotated selections from Benjamin Franklin and Jonathan Edwards 
are given on pages 403-422 of this volume. 

Extracts from the minor writers will be found in Stedman and 
Hutchinson's '' Library of American Literature," Cairns's '' Early 
American Writers," Trent and Wells's '' Colonial Prose and Poetry," 
Trent's '' Southern Writers," MacDonald's '' Documentary Source 
Book of American History " (1606-1898), and Albert B. Hart's 
''American History Told by Contemporaries," Vol. 11. 

Frankhn's " Autobiography," J. B. McMaster's " Benjamin 
Franklin " (American Men of Letters Series), J. T. Morse's '' Ben- 
jamin Franklin " (American Statesmen Series), P. L. Ford's " The 
Many Sided Franklin," Miller's ''Life of Jonathan Edwards" 
and A. V. G. Allen's " Life of Jonathan Edwards." In Holmes's 
" Pages from an Old Volume of Life " will be found an interesting 
essay on Edwards. Refer to Poole's " Index to Periodical Litera- 
ture " for numerous magazine and review articles. 

For the historical background consult the standard American 
histories. In addition to the works of Fiske and Lodge previously 
mentioned (p. 37), Fiske's " The Colonial Era " (Scribners), 
Thwaites's " The Colonies " (Longmans), and Doyle's " EngHsh 
Colonies in America " (Holt) are recommended. 

The following poems deal with incidents of this period : Thos. 
Dunn English's " The Sack of Deerfield," Longfellow's " Ballad 
of the French Fleet," and Whittier's " Prophecy of Samuel Se- 
wall." 

Historical fiction illustrating the Second Colonial Period: 
Mary Johnston's "Audrey" (1727), William Gilmore Simms's 



JONATHAN EDWARDS 71 , 



"The Yemassee" (1715), Amelia E. Barr's ''The Bow of 
Orange Ribbon " (1706), James Fenimore Cooper's '' The Leather- 
Stocking Tales" (1750-60), Wm. M. Thackeray's "The Vir- 
ginians" (1756-83), John Esten Cooke's "The Virginia Come- 
dians " (1763-65), and R. W. Chambers's " Cardigan " (1744-73). 



REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 



REPRESENTATIVE WRITERS 

THOMAS JEFFERSON ALEXANDER HAMILTON 

OTHER WRITERS 

NEW ENGLAND 

John Trumbull (1750-1831). Bom in Connecticut, and graduated at Yale. 
Wrote essays in the style of the Spectator, and in 1782 completed "Mc- 
Fingal," a satire upon the Tories in the manner of Butler's "Hudibras." 
(See text.) 

Joel Barlow (i 754-181 2). Poet and ix)litician, born in Connecticut. In 
1787 he published an epic poem entitled " The Vision of Columbus," which 
appeared anew in revised form in 1805 under the title of "The Columbiad." 
It is a dull epic, but his "Hasty Pudding" is still readable. Ambassador 
to France in 181 1. (See text.) 

Timothy Dwight (i 752-181 7). President of Yale College from 1795 to the 
time of his death. A theologian whose works are still instructiv^e. He 
wrote the hymn, "I love Thy Kingdom, Lord," and the patriotic song 
"Columbia, Columbia, to Glory Arise." 

John Adams (i 735-1826). Born in Massachusetts. A statesman of great 
ability; ambassador to England in 1785, and second President of the 
United States in 1797. He published an elaborate "Defense of the Con- 
stitution of the United States" (3 vols.) in London in 1787. 

Mrs. Susanna Rowson (1762-1824). A novelist of English birth, residing in 
Boston. Her "Charlotte Temple" was the most popular story of its 
day. Besides a half dozen novels, she wrote several dramatic pieces. 

Phillis Wheatley (i 753-1 794). A verse writer of African birth. Brought 
to this country as a slave, she was purchased by Mrs. WTieatley of Boston, 
by whom she was well educated. Her "Poems on Various Subjects" 
were published in London in 1773, and gained a temporary popularity. 

73 



74 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

MIDDLE STATES 

Charles Brockden Brown (1771-1810). The first American novelist. 
Born in Philadelphia. He studied law, but abandoned it for literature. 
He wrote, " Wieland," "Ormond," and ''Arthur Mervjoi," all of which are 
characterized by imaginative and sometimes weird ingenuity. (See text.) 

Francis Hopkinson (1737-1791). A lawyer and politician, bom in Phila- 
delphia. One of the first graduates of the College of Philadelphia, after- 
wards the University of Pennsylvania. One of the signers of the Declara- 
tion of Independence. He wrote many satires, the best known of which 
is "The Battle of the Kegs." 

Joseph Hopkinson (1770-1842). A distinguished lawyer. He graduated 
at the University of Pennsylvania, and was a member of Congress in 
1815-1819. He is best known as the author of ''Hail Columbia," which 
was written for the benefit of a player at a Philadelphia theatre. 

Philip Freneau (1752-1832). A poet, editor, and poHtical writer, bom in 
New York and educated at the College of New Jersey. Edited several 
papers, among which were the N. Y. Daily Advertiser and the National 
Gazette of Philadelphia. He published several volumes of poems, of 
which "Lines to a Wild Honeysuckle" and "The Indian Burying Ground" 
are regarded the best. (See text.) 

Thomas Paine (173 7-1 809). A native of England, who came to Philadelphia 
in 1774. His pamphlet entitled "Common Sense," an able defence of 
the American Colonies, won him the friendship of Washington, Franklin, 
and other distinguished American leaders. His "Rights of Man" (1791) 
is an eloquent defence of the French Revolution. "The Age of Reason," 
written while in a French prison, favors Deism. 

Hugh Henry Brackenridge (1748-1816). A lawyer and humorist of Phila- 
delphia, whose works were quite popular in their day. "Modern Chivalry " 
was his principal work, though he wrote a dramatic poem, "Bunker's 
Hill," and a few lyrics. 

Alexander Wilson (i 766-1 813). A Scottish poet and ornithologist, who 
came to this country in 1794. His narrative poem, "Watty and Meg," 
had in its day an immense vogue — 100,000 copies sold in a few weeks. 
But his principal work is "American Ornithology." 

VIRGINIA 

James Madison (1751-1836). A great statesman and political writer.- He 
was Secretary of. State under Jefferson, and in 1809 became President. 
One of the authors of "The FederaHst." 



REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 75 

John Marshall (i 755-1835). A statesman, and Chief Justice of the United 
States. He was a captain in the American Revolution, and Secretary 
of State under John .\dams. As Chief Justice, to which office he was 
appointed in 1801, he was said to be "conscience made flesh, reason 
incarnate." His "Life of Washington" is an elaborate and judicious 
biography. 

William Wirt (17 7 2-1 834). A native of Maryland, he long resided in Vir- 
ginia, where he practised law and served in the legislature. He was 
attorney general of the United States, 181 7-1829. He afterwards settled 
in Baltimore. He wrote "Letters of a British Spy," containing sketches 
of popular orators, and a "Life of Patrick Henry," an excellent biography. 

George Washington (173 2-1 799). Commander-in-Chief during the Revolu- 
tion and first President of the United States. His writings, including 
his diary and correspondence, fill fourteen volumes. His "Farewell 
Address" would be sufficient to give him a place in the literature of his 
country. 

Contemporary Writers in England 

Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816) ; Edmund Burke (1730-1797); 
Edward Gibbon (i 737-1 794); Samuel Johnson (1709-1784); William 
CowPER ( 1 731-1800); Oliver Goldsmith (1728- 1 784); Robert Burns 
(1759-1796); Ann Radcliffe (1764-1823); Jane Austen (i 775-181 7) ; 
Robert Southey (i 774-1843). 



Ill 

THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 

(1763-1815) 

121. Two Important Events. — The Revolutionary Period 
embraces about fifty years, and includes two events of great 
importance. The first of these is the War of Independence ; 
the other, the adoption of the Constitution. Around these 
two events gathers nearly all the Hterature of the time. This 
literature can be understood only as we comprehend the spirit 
and principles of the founders of our republic. No other period 
better illustrates the relation of literature to prevailing social 
conditions. For half a century the struggle against British 
injustice and oppression, and the establishment of a great 
national government, absorbed a large part of the intellectual 
energies of the people. Great practical questions were pressing 
for solution. It was the age of political pamphlets and popular 
oratory. The literature of the time arose, not to enrich the 
treasures of artistic expression, but to mould and move popular 
thought and action. 

CONTEMPORARY EVENTS IN ENGLAND 

George III, 1 760-1 820. Colonization of Australia, 1802. 

Stamp Act, 1765. Abolition of Slave Trade, 1807. 

American War, 1775-1783. The Peninsular War, 1808-18 14. 

War with France, 1793. Second War with America, 181 2. 

Union of Great Britain and Ireland, 1800. South Africa Acquired, 1815. 

76 



THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 



77 



122. Patriotic Heroism. — The leaders of the revolutionary 
movement were heroes. We cannot peruse their determined 
and often eloquent words without being moved with admira- 
tion. There is an ardor in them that kindles anew the spirit 
of freedom. The deliberate and resolute courage of the 
Revolutionary patriots has never been surpassed. True to 
the spirit of their forefathers, who had sought refuge from op- 
pression in the wilds of a new continent, they were bravely 
jealous of their liberties. With Anglo-Saxon fidelity they were 
loyal to England until repeated and inexcusable acts of tyr- 
anny drove them into resistance. It was only when the 
hope of receiving justice from the mother country had com- 
pletely died out, that the desire and purpose of independence 
arose. 

123. British Tyranny. — The general cause of the Revolu- 
tion was the stupid and tyrannical claim of the British govern- 
ment " to bind the colonies in all things whatsoever." The 
fatal course of George III and of his ministers may be best 
explained as a madness sent from heaven, like the hardening 
of Pharaoh's heart, to prepare the way for the coming of a 
great nation. For many years the British king, supported by 
Parliament, had pursued a policy of usurpation and tyranny. 
The Hst of grievances in the Declaration of Independence, 
where each statement points to a particular fact, makes up a 
terrific indictment. Jefferson was only faithful to facts when 
he declared, " The history of the present king of Great Britain 
is a history of unremitting injuries and usurpations, among 
which appears no solitary fact to contradict the uniform tenor 
of the rest, but all have in direct object the estabHshment of an 
absolute tyranny over these states." The petitions and re- 
monstrances of the colonists remained unnoticed. The king 
demanded absolute and abject submission. 



78 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

124. Spirit of Liberty. — But it was impossible that the 
people of America should become a race of slaves. Liberty 
was a part of their inheritance as EngHshmen. They cherished 
the memory of Magna Charta and the Bill of Rights of 1689. 
The tragic fate of Charles I, brought to the block for his tyr- 
anny, was not forgotten. The hardships and dangers con- 
nected with the subjugation of an untamed continent had 
served to develop their native strength, courage, and inde- 
pendence. They were the last people in the world tamely 
to submit to oppression and wrong. They maintained that, 
by nature as well as by common law, the right of taxation rests 
with the people. To take their property by taxation without 
their consent was justly held to be tyranny. When, in viola- 
tion of this fundamental principle of civil liberty, the British 
government persisted in the claim to tax the colonies at pleas- 
ure, the inevitable result was united and resolute resistance. 

125. A Group of Statesmen. — The necessities of the times 
produced a generation of poHtical thinkers and writers. The 
Continental Congress of 1774, which included among its mem- 
bers Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, and Adams, was one of 
extraordinary abihty. No abler legislative body ever came 
together. The leaders of popular thought were forced to 
reflect upon the fundamental principles of government. The 
result was a clearness of vision in relation to human rights that 
is almost without parallel. The discussions and state papers 
of the time have extorted praise from the ablest European 
statesmen. Many of the speeches of the time possess an 
eloquence that compares favorably with the highest oratory 
of either ancient or modern times. While the belles-lettres 
literature of the Revolutionary Period is insignificant in both 
quantity and quality, no more interesting or important body 
of political literature was ever brought together in the same 



THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 79 

space of time. It is necessary to mention only the Declaration 
of Independence, the Constitution, and " The Federalist." 

126. Independence. — In the beginning of the revolu- 
tionary movement, the people of America did not aim at inde- 
pendence. They were loyal to England. At first their object 
was simply to correct the injustice done them by the British 
government. Their petitions were accompanied with sincere 
professions of loyalty to the British crown. But the spirit of 
independence imperceptibly gained in strength. At last, as 
the conflict deepened, separation from Great Britain became 
inevitable. Submission and reconciliation were no longer 
possible. On the 4th of July, 1776, the representatives of the 
colonies, in Congress assembled, issued their sublime Declara- 
tion of Independence, and America entered upon its career of 
grandeur and freedom. 

127. Unjust Taxation. — The Americans based the justice 
of their cause on two grounds : first, their rights as English- 
men ; and second, their natural rights as men. Since the days 
of the Great Charter, the king had been denied the right of 
imposing taxes at pleasure. The attempt to do so was an act 
of tyranny that had already cost one king his head. The 
colonies maintained that they were not under the jurisdiction 
of ParHament. They were not represented in that body. The 
right of taxation rested only with their own popular assemblies. 
The effort of ParHament to impose taxes upon them was, 
therefore, an evident usurpation of authority. 

128. Natural Rights. — But the American colonists went 
farther than a defence of their rights under the constitution and 
common law of England. They appealed to their natural 
rights as men. '' Among the natural rights of the colonists," 
wrote Samuel Adams in 1772, *' are these: first, a right to 
life ; secondly, to hberty ; thirdly, to property — together 



8o AMERICAN LITERATURE 

with the right to support and defend them in the best manner 
they can." In the Declaration of Independence the same 
appeal is made to fundamental natural principles. 

129. Defect of the Confederation. — The happy issue of 
the Revolution in 1783 settled forever the questions which 
related to British oppression, and which for twenty years 
had so largely occupied the thought of Americans. Then 
followed an era of discussion in relation to the form and powers 
of the national government. During the Revolution there had 
been no central power. Under the Articles of Confederation 
adopted in 1778, the colonies were organized into a loose con- 
federacy. Congress was narrowly restricted in its powers, 
and the ratification of nine States was necessary to complete 
an act of legislation. " The fundamental defect of the Con- 
federation," says Jefferson, "was that Congress was not author- 
ized to act immediately on the people, and by its own officers. 
Their power was only requisitory ; and these requisitions were 
addressed to the several legislatures, to be by them carried 
into execution, without other coercion than the moral principle 
of duty. This allowed, in fact, a negative to every legislature, 
on every measure proposed by Congress ; a negative so fre- 
quently exercised in practice, as to benumb the action of the 
Federal government, and to render it inefficient in its general 
objects, and more especially in pecuniary and foreign concerns." 
During the continuance of the Revolution, the sense of common 
danger naturally held the colonies together. The requisitions 
of Congress were generally compHed with. But after the war, 
the country fell into great disorder and distress, and the inade- 
quacy of the Confederation became generally apparent. 

130. Framing the Constitution. — Accordingly, in 1787, a 
general convention was held in Philadelphia to revise the 
Articles of Confederation. Washington was chosen president. 



THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 8l 

A committee of revision submitted as its report the first draft 
of the present Constitution of the United States. The dis- 
cussions, which were secret, lasted for several months ; and 
in view of conflicting opinions and interests, the convention 
was several times on the point of giving up in despair. The 
nation trembled on the brink of dissolution and ruin. But 
in each instance further deliberation resulted in compromise 
and agreement. When completed, the Constitution did not 
wholly satisfy any one; it was unanimously accepted, how- 
ever, •as the best result attainable under the circumstances. 
It remedied the obvious defects of the Articles of Confedera- 
tion. It estabHshed a national government with legislative, 
executive, and judicial departments ; and the results thus far 
have justified the judgment of Gladstone, that it is " the most 
wonderful work ever struck off at a given time by the brain 
and purpose of man." 

131. Federalist and Anti-Federalist. — After the comple- 
tion of the work of the convention, the Constitution came 
before the people of the several States for ratification or rejec- 
tion. For the first time the American people were divided 
into two great parties. All local differences were swallowed 
up in the larger issue relating to the national government. 
Those who favored the adoption of the Constitution were 
known as Federalists ; those who opposed it were called Anti- 
Federah$ts. Pohtical feehng ran high. The question of 
ratification was discussed in the newspaper and debated in the 
public assembly. Party opinion was sometimes emphasized 
by mob violence. In New York the leader of the Anti-Fed- 
eralists was Governor Clinton. The leader on the opposite 
side was Hamilton, who, in cooperation with Madison and Jay, 
largely influenced popular sentiment by the series of powerful 
essays known collectively as '' The Federalist." In Virginia, 



82 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Patrick Henry used all his influence and eloquence to prevent 
the adoption of the Constitution ; but he was successfully 
opposed by Edmund Randolph, governor of the State. 

132. Grounds of Opposition and Support. — The general 
ground of opposition lay, first, in dislike of a strong national 
government ; and secondly, in the absence of sufficient guar- 
antees (since supplied by amendments) to secure the liberties 
of the people. The reasons in favor of adoption are succinctly 
stated in the preamble of the Constitution itself : namely, " to 
form a more perfect union, establish justice, ensure domestic 
tranquillity, provide for the common defence, promote the 
general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves 
and our posterity." 

133. The New Government. — In spite of the strong feeling 
against the Constitution, it was ratified by eleven States before 
the end of 1788. The following year the new government was 
inaugurated, with Washington as the unanimous choice of 
the people for president. There remained, however, many 
perplexing questions to be settled. The financial policy of 
the government; the relations of the United States with 
foreign powers ; the acquisition of new territory — these were 
some of the questions that engaged the attention of thoughtful 
minds. In 181 2 it again became necessary to meet British 
insolence and aggression by force. The ground of hostilities 
was compressed into the rallying cry of '' Free trade and sailors' 
rights." In a conflict lasting more than two years, England 
was again defeated. With the happy solution of all these prob- 
lems, and the rapid development in population and wealth, 
the United States at last assumed an honorable place among 
the great family of nations. 

134. Theology and Poetry. — Such were the prevailing 
influences controlling literature during the Revolutionary 



THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 



83 



Period. It would be a mistake, however, to suppose that the 
entire literary activity of the country was confined to popular 
oratory, political pamphlets, and official documents. The- 
ology was not entirely neglected ; and Timothy Dwight's 
^'Theology Ex- 
plained and De- 
fended," in a 
series of sermons, 
was a standard in 
its day, and may 
still be studied 
with profit. The 
mighty influences 
at work naturally 
sought an auxil- 
iary in poetry. 
Accordingly, we 
find a large num- 
ber of satires, 
more or less ex- 
tended, many 
popular ballads, 
mostly crude in 
composition, and 
at least one pre- 
tentious epic, so stately and tedious that it is never read. 
Here and there we find a poem or other literary production 
independent of the pclitical controversies of the time. Such 
is Philip Freneau's " The Wild Honeysuckle " : — 

"Fair flower, that dost so comely grow, 
Hid in this silent, dull retreat, 
Untouched thy honey'd blossoms blow, 




Philip Freneau 



^4 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Unseen thy little branches greet: 
No roving foot shall find thee here, 
No busy hand provoke a tear." 

135. Charles Brockden Brown. — Here should be men- 
tioned the work of Charles Brockden Brown, who among our 




Charles Brockden Brown 



native authors has the credit of first adopting literature as a 
profession. His early years were marked by an extraordinary 
fondness for study and by a rare precocity of genius. Virgil 
and Homer stirred his poetic impulses, and scarcely out of 



THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 85 

school, he planned three epic poems connected with American 
history. Columbus, Cortez, and Pizarro appealed to him as 
epic heroes. 

He first gave himself to the practice of law ; but like not a few 
others in the history of American literature, he soon abandoned 
the bar for the pen. He became a contributor to the periodical 
literature of New York and Philadelphia, and in 1803, in the 
latter city, he founded the Literary Magazine and American 
Register, which had a career of five years. He was not indif- 
ferent to the political questions of his day ; and in his "Cession 
of Louisiana to France," he advocated, with decided energy 
of style, the purchase of that region and the progressive terri- 
torial expansion of the United States. 

136. His Various Novels. — But Brown's principal claim 
to a place in the history of our literature depends upon his 
fiction. In spite of his feeble health, which necessitated the 
utmost care in diet and exercise, he wrote no fewer than six 
novels, among which " Wieland," " Ormond," " Arthur 
Mervyn " and " Edgar Huntley " deserve special mention. 
He was influenced in his matter and style by the EngHsh novel- 
ist William Godwin, in whose " Caleb Williams " he finds 
" transcendent merits as compared to the mass of novels." 
He deals with the mysterious ; but in spite of their improb- 
ability, his novels still possess an unmistakable power. Though 
lacking in the delineation of character, he has something of 
Poe's power in describing weird scenes and morbid psychologic 
conditions. 

137. A Political Satire. — The principal satire of the period 
is John Trumbull's '' McFingal," which was undertaken, as 
he tells us, ''with a political view, at the instigation of some 
leading members of the first Congress," and was published 
in part in Philadelphia in 1775. It is written in imitation of 



86 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Butler's " Hudibras," and does not suffer in comparison with 
that famous'satire upon the Puritans of England. Some of its 

lines are easily mis- 
taken for Butler's, and 
have been so quoted; 
for example : — 

''A thief ne'er felt the 
halter draw 
With good opinion of 
the law." 

Or this, — 

"For any man with half 

an eye 
What stands before him 

may espy 
But optics sharp it needs, 

I ween, 
To see what is not to be 

seen." 

Trumbull does not 
always spare his coun- 
trymen. In the following lines there is a very good hit at 
slavery. After describing the erection of a liberty-pole, he con- 
tinues : — 

"And on its top, the flag unfurled 
Waved triumph o'er the gazing world, 
Inscribed with inconsistent types 
Of liberty and thirteen stripes." 

The hero McFingal is a Tory squire, who in resisting the 
Whigs comes to grief, and suffers the peculiar revolutionary 
punishment of tar and feathers. 

138. '' Yankee Doodle." — '' Yankee Doodle " belongs to 
this period. The tune is an old one ; and the hero himself. 




John Trumbull 



THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 



87 



who had previously figured in Holland and England may be 
regarded as American only by adoption. The song was first 
used in derision of the motley troops of the colonies ; but like 
many another term of reproach, Yankee Doodle was taken up 
by the American soldiery, and made a designation of honor. 
The first complete set of words appears to date from 1775, 
and is entitled *' The 
Yankee's Return from 
Camp." 

"Father and I went down 
to camp 
Along with Captain 
Gooding 
And there we see the 
men and boys 
As thick as hasty- 
pudding." 

139. Our First Epic. 

— In 1807 '' The Co- 
lumbiad," an epic 
poem in ten books, by 
Joel Barlow, made its 
appearance in a 
sumptuous edition. 
It is our first epic 
poem, and this fact constitutes its principal claim upon our 
attention. The plan of the work is very simple. While 
Columbus is lying in prison, the victim of his country's in- 
gratitude, Hesper appears, and conducts him to the " hill 
of vision " commanding the western continent. Here the 
celestial visitant unfolds to the great discoverer the history of 
America, including the conquest of Mexico by Cortez, the 




Joel Barlow 



88 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

establishment of the English colonies, the French and Indian 
War, and the Revolution. Last of all, " the progress and 
influences of modern art and science are pointed out, the 
advantages of the federal government, and of a larger con- 
federation of nations, with an assimilation and unity of 
languages; and abandonment of war, and a final blaze of 
rockets over the emancipation of the world from prejudice, 
and general millennium of philosophic joy and freedom." 



THOMAS JEFFERSON 



140. Men and Epochs. — 

Do great epochs make great 
men, or do great men make 
great epochs ? This question 
has often been discussed ; and 
the consideration of every 
important era is Hkely to start 
it afresh. Neither question is 
true to the exclusion of the 
other. Great epochs and 
great men go together, each 
exerting an influence upon 
the other. In a nation, as 
in an individual, there is 
usually a large amount of 
ability unutilized. Under or- 
dinary conditions it lies latent. 
When there comes that conflict of ideas, and often of physical 
force, which marks a new stage in human progress, the latent 
energies of the people are roused to action : great men rise to 
meet the responsibilities and to seize the opportunities presented 
to them. They often succeed in directing or controlling the new 
movement, and out of chaos they bring forth order and beauty. 

141. Jefferson's Rank. — Among the great men developed and 
brought into prominence by the conflict with Great Britain, a 
very high place must be assigned to Thomas Jefferson. After 
Washington, whom a grateful country has invested with an al- 
most ideal beauty, he must be ranked with Adams, Franklin, 
and Hamilton, as one of the founders of our republic. Among 

89 




Thomas Jefferson 



90 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

the many distinguished sons whom Virginia has given to America, 
Jefferson stands very close after " the father of his country." 
His labors in the Legislature of Virginia, in the Continental Con- 
gress, and afterwards in the president's chair, displayed the wis- 
dom and the patriotism of a great statesman. 

142. Ancestry. — Thomas Jefferson was born in Albemarle 
County, April 2, 1743. His father, who was of Welsh descent, was a 
man of no great learning, but of excellent judgment and great phys- 
ical strength. His mother, who was a Randolph, belonged to one 
of the most distinguished Virginia families. The Randolphs traced 
their pedigree to noble families in England and Scotland — a 
fact " to which," says Jefferson in his " Autobiography," *' let 
every one ascribe the faith and merit he chooses." Considering 
the mental and physical traits of his father and mother, we see that 
Jefferson was fortunate in his parentage. 

143. At College. — After an excellent preparatory training, 
including English, French, Latin, and Greek, Jefferson entered 
WilHam and Mary College, which was generally patronized at 
that time by the aristocratic families of Virginia. He was a 
diligent student, often working, as he tells us, fifteen hours a 
day. He united a decided taste for both mathematics and the 
classics. He had little taste for fiction, and it is said that " Don 
Quixote " is the only novel he ever keenly relished or read a second 
time. He delighted in poetry, and read Homer, Horace, Tasso, 
Moliere, Shakespeare, Milton, and Pope. For a time he was 
extravagantly fond of Ossian, and " was not ashamed to own that 
he thought this rude bard of the North the greatest poet that had 
ever existed." But many years before his death he formed a juster 
estimate of Macpherson's forgeries. He took no interest in meta- 
physical studies, and frequently expressed '' unmitigated contempt 
for Plato and his writings." 

144. A Student of Law. — While in WilHamsburg, at that time 
the capital of the State, Jefferson became a law student under 
George Wythe, one of the ablest and purest lawyers Virginia 
has produced. He won the favor of Governor Fauquier, at whose 



THOMAS JEFFERSON 9 1 

table he was a frequent guest. '' With him," Jefferson writes, 
" Dr. Small and Mr. Wythe, his amici omnium horarum, and 
myself formed a partie guarree, and to the habitual conversations 
on these occasions I owed much instruction. ' ' This intimate fellow- 
ship with learned and distinguished men while he was yet scarcely 
out of his teens, indicates the presence of no ordinary intellectual 
and social gifts. 

145. Legal Career. — In 1767, at the age of twenty-four, 
Jefferson entered upon the practice of law. His preparation 
had been thorough, and he was eminently successful from the 
start. Though he was not, like his friend Patrick Henry, an 
eloquent speaker, he was a man of excellent judgment and untir- 
ing industry. While capable of seizing at once upon the strong 
points of a case, he had a genius for details. Nothing can surpass 
the minuteness of his observations, and the patience of his methodi- 
cal classification. He was rapidly advancing to a prominent place 
among the ablest lawyers of Virginia, when the struggle with Great 
Britain called him to a wider and more important field of action. 

146. In the House of Burgesses. — In 1769 Jefferson was 
elected a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses for his native 
county. The aristocratic class, to which he belonged by birth 
and association, was generally conservative. They were loyal 
to the English crown and to the English church. It speaks forcibly 
for Jefferson's patriotism and for his noble independence of char- 
acter, that he threw off his inherited prejudices and sided with 
the colonies. At this meeting of the House of Burgesses resolu- 
tions were passed boldly declaring that the right of levying taxes 
in Virginia belonged to themselves ; that they possessed the privi- 
lege of petitioning the king for a redress of grievances ; and that 
the transportation to England of persons accused of treason in the 
colonies, in order to be tried there, was unconstitutional and unjust. 
In advocating these resolutions, Jefferson took a decided and promi- 
nent part. 

147. Marriage. — In 1772 Jefferson married Mrs. Martha 
Skelton, a young widow of great attractions in person, mind, 



92 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



and estate. She was of frank, warm-hearted disposition; and 
'' last, not least, she had already proved a true daughter of the 
Old Dominion in the department of house- wifery." She added 
to her husband's estate, which was already very large, about forty 
thousand acres of land and one hundred and thirty-five slaves. 
Thus they were unembarrassed by those disagreeable domestic 
economies that sometimes interfere with wedded bliss; and 




jiuxiiciiLLo, Iluiii:: ur Thomas Jepeerson 

Monticello became as noted for bounteous hospitality as for domes- 
tic felicity. 

148. Committee of Correspondence. — In 1773 Jefferson was 
again in the House of Burgesses. The gathering storm became 
more threatening. A resolution, ordering the appointment of a 
committee of correspondence with the other colonies, was passed. 
Jefferson was a leading member of this committee, and its duties 
were promptly and ably discharged. The result was of the high- 
est importance. Similar committees were appointed in the 
other colonies; and thus a means of communication was opened 



THOMAS JEFFERSON 93 

among them, the feeling of common interest was strengthened, 
and a general congress met the following year to consider the great 
questions that were agitating the continent. 

149. A Day of Fasting and Prayer. — In 1774 the British Par- 
liament, in retaliation for the famous " Tea Party," passed the 
Boston Port Bill, which aimed to deprive that town of its foreign 
trade. When the news of this bill reached Williamsburg, the 
patriot leaders, Jefferson, Henry, the Lees, and others, met as 
usual for consultation, and resolved to take steps to rouse the 
'' people from the lethargy into which they had fallen." A day 
of fasting and prayer was agreed on as the best expedient to accom- 
plish their object. Accordingly, a resolution was " cooked up," 
to use Jefferson's rather irreverent phrase, " appointing the first 
day of June, on which the Port Bill was to commence, for a day of 
fasting, humiliation, and prayer, to implore Heaven to avert from 
us the evils of civil war, to inspire us with firmness in the support 
of our rights, and to turn the hearts of the king and parliament to 
moderation and justice." The scheme was successfully carried 
through. The day was fittingly observed ; and the effect through- 
out the colony was like an electric shock, arousing every man to a 
sense of the situation. 

150. ''Rights of British America." — Jefferson was prevented 
by illness from attending the convention which met several months 
later to elect delegates to the first general congress. But he for- 
warded a paper which he proposed as instructions for their guid- 
ance. The paper was regarded as too strong for formal adoption 
by the convention ; but it was ordered to be printed in pamphlet 
form, under the title of " A Summary View of the Rights of British 
America." It is a production remarkable for its strong statement 
of the natural and constitutional rights of the colonies, and for a 
particular enumeration of the various acts of injustice and tyranny 
on the part of the British government. It supplied principles, facts, 
and phrases for the Declaration of Independence two years later. 

151. A Member of Congress. — In June, 1775, Jefferson took 
his seat in the Continental Congress. He was then thirty- two 



94 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

years old — the youngest member but one in that illustrious 
body. His reputation as a writer and patriot had preceded him, 
and he accordingly met with a flattering reception. He now 
entered upon that larger sphere of action that closely identified 
him for many years with his country's history. On the floor of 
Congress he spoke but little, for he was neither an orator nor 
a debater. But he was so clear in his convictions, and so 
active in committee and in his personal relations with his fellow- 
members, that he exerted a strong influence. " Prompt, frank, 
explicit, and decisive" are the terms in which John Adams 
described him at this period. He had been in Congress but 
five days when he was appointed on a committee to prepare 
a report on "the causes of taking up arms against England." 
Here, as in the Virginia legislature, he showed himself bold, 
resolute, and defiant. 

152. Declaration of Independence. — Events of great impor- 
tance now followed one another in rapid succession. The blood 
shed at Lexington and Bunker Hill had thoroughly roused the 
American people. Reconciliation was recognized, even by the 
most conservative, as no longer possible. The colonies, throw- 
ing off British rule, were organizing independent governments. 
On the 7th of June, Richard Henry Lee, acting under instruc- 
tions from the Virginia convention, offered in Congress a reso- 
lution declaring that the " United States are, and of a right ought 
to be, free and independent states." As it seemed impossible 
to secure unanimity of action at that time, a final vote was post- 
poned till the first of July. Meanwhile, a committee, consisting 
of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger 
Sherman, and Robert Livingston, was appointed to prepare a 
suitable Declaration of Independence. The preparation of this 
important document devolved upon Jefferson. Adams and Frank- 
lin made a few verbal changes. When taken up in Congress, it 
was discussed for two days, and numerous changes and omissions 
were made. Finally, on July 4, 1776, it was almost unanimously 
adopted, and the foundation of a great repubhc was laid. 



THOMAS JEFFERSON 95 

153. Law of Religious Freedom. — A new government had been 
established in Virginia, and Jefferson elected a member of the 
legislature. BeHeving that he could render important service 
to his native State, where there were " many very vicious points 
which urgently required reformation," he resigned his seat in 
Congress. He became once more a leading spirit in the legislature 
of Virginia, and carried through several bills which changed in 
large measure the subsequent social condition of the State. Among 
these was a bill abolishing the system of entails, and another es- 
tablishing religious freedom, — one of the three great acts of his 
life for which he wished to be remembered. 

154. Educational System. — It was also in connection with a 
bill requiring a general revision of the laws that Jefferson proposed 
his educational system, providing for the establishment of schools 
of every grade. Had it been carried out, it would have contrib- 
uted immeasurably to the intelligence of the people and the pros- 
perity of the State. His plan contemplated, to use his own words, 
*' I St. Elementary schools, for all children generally, rich and 
poor. 2d. Colleges for a middle degree of instruction, calculated 
for the common purposes of life, and such as would be desirable 
for all who wxre in easy circumstances. And 3d. An ultimate 
grade for teaching the sciences generally, and in their highest 
degree." The support of these schools was to be provided by 
general taxation. But inasmuch as the system thus threw on 
the rich and aristocratic classes, who had the law-making power 
in their hands, a large part of the burden of educating the poor, 
it was never carried into effect. 

155. Varied Public Services. — It is beyond the limits of this 
sketch to trace at any length the subsequent public career of 
Jefferson. In 1779 he was elected governor of Virginia, and 
discharged the duties of that office, at a difficult period, with 
fidelity and ability. In 1783 he was again elected a delegate 
to Congress. The currency of the country coming under discus- 
sion, Jefferson proposed the dollar as our unit of account and 
payment, and its subdivision into dimes, cents, and mills in the 



g6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

decimal ratio — the system, it is needless to say, that was adopted. 
In 1784 he was appointed to go to France, for the purpose of nego- 
tiating, in connection with Franklin and Adams, treaties of com- 
merce. After a time he was appointed minister at the Court of 
Versailles, where his talents, culture, and character reflected credit 
upon his country. 

156. Secretary of State. — In 1789 Jefferson received permis- 
sion to return to this country. During his absence the Consti- 
tution had been adopted, and the new government inaugurated, 
with Washington as President. Jefferson accepted a place in 
the cabinet as Secretary of State. He reached New York, the 
seat of government at that time, in March, 1790. Having left 
France the first year of its Revolution, he was filled with ardor 
for the natural rights of man. He was therefore surprised and 
grieved to find, as he thought, a sentiment prevailing in favor 
of a consolidated or even monarchical form of government. 

157. An Advocate of State Rights. — This introduces us to a 
new phase in Jefferson's life. With immovable convictions in 
favor of democratic principles, he opposed with all his might 
the tendency to consolidate or centraHze the federal government. 
He became the recognized leader of the party in favor of State 
rights and a general government of restricted and carefully defined 
powers. His opponent in the cabinet was Alexander Hamilton, 
a man of extraordinary ability and energy, who for a time exerted 
great influence upon the policy of the government. In spite of 
Washington's effort to preserve harmony, the irreconcilable conflict 
of principles between the Secretary of State and the Secretary of 
the Treasury degenerated into bitter personal hostility. At 
length, in December, 1793, Jefferson carried out his long-cherished 
purpose of resigning. 

158. In the White House. — During the next several years, 
Jefferson lived upon his estate at Monticello, engaged in the 
agricultural pursuits for which he had longed for many years. But 
he was not to spend the rest of his life in retirement. In the elec- 
tion of 1 801, which was attended with extraordinary excitement 



THOMAS JEFFERSON 97 

and danger to the republic, the Federalists, who had controlled 
the government for twelve years, were defeated. Their party was 
divided, and the Alien and Sedition Laws were not sustained by 
public sentiment. Jefferson, the candidate of the Republican or 
Democratic party, was chosen President. In his inaugural ad- 
dress he laid down an admirable summary of principles, among 
which were " equal and exact justice to all men, of whatever 
state or persuasion, religious or political; peace, commerce, and 
honest friendship with all nations; entangling alliances with 
none; absolute acquiescence in the decisions of the majority; 
and economy in the public expense, that labor may be hghtly 
burdened." 

159. His Administration. — His administration, in conformity 
with the principles he had announced, was a brilliant one. He 
introduced republican simpUcity in place of the stately formali- 
ties of previous administrations. He greatly reduced the public 
debt ; the territorial area of the United States was doubled ; taxes 
were decreased ; a war with France and Spain was honorably 
averted ; the Barbary pirates were subdued ; and the internal 
prosperity of the country vastly increased. His popularity became 
second only to that of Washington himself. He was accordingly 
re-elected for a second term, throughout which he continued, 
likewise, to administer the affairs of the government with great 
wisdom and broad statesmanship. 

160. The University of Virginia. — In 1809, after witnessing 
the inauguration of his successor, Madison, Jefferson left Wash- 
ington for Monticello. After forty years of poHtical turmoil 
and strife, he retired finally to the seclusion of private Hfe. Dur- 
ing this closing period, which was burdened by financial embarrass- 
ment, he gave much time and labor to the founding of the Uni- 
versity of Virginia. He planned the buildings, designated the 
departments of instruction, and framed the laws for its govern- 
ment. As president of the Board, he exerted a controUing influ- 
ence for a number of years. The scheme of government at first 
proposed, which included a co-operative feature, did not come 



98 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

up to his expectations. It erred on the side of laxity ; and very 
soon a spirit of riot and insubordination among the students 
brought the university to the verge of dissolution. Stricter regu- 
lations were afterwards adopted, and the university entered upon 
its career of usefulness and honor. 

161. His Death. — With advancing years naturally came in- 
creased infirmity. As the end drew near in the summer of 1826, 
he earnestly desired to see one more return of the day that com- 
memorated the Declaration of Independence. His prayer was 
heard. He passed away on the morning of July 4, fifty years 
after the adoption of his immortal Declaration. A nation mourned 
his death. The voice of partisan prejudice was lost for a time 
in the general homage paid to his life and character. He was 
buried at Monticello, where a modest granite shaft marks his 
resting-place. It bears the inscription composed by himself 
and found among his papers : — 

HERE LIES BURIED 

THOMAS JEFFERSON, 

AUTHOR OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE, 
OF THE STATUTE OF VIRGINIA FOR RELIGIOUS FREEDOM, 
AND FATHER OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA. 

162. Estimate of His Character. — The general features of 
his character have been brought out in the course of this sketch. 
He was a frank and honest man; and as he expressed himself 
freely in his writings, we have ample facilities for knowing him well. 
His intellect was capacious, penetrating, and strong. To the 
refinement of a superior literary culture he added rich stores of 
general information. He was singularly independent in thought 
and action — a natural leader among men. He was a prince among 
statesmen. The services he rendered his country are second, only 
to those of Washington. His fundamental poHtical faith was 
that all legitimate government is based on the consent of the 
governed. He had faith in humanity, and was opposed to 



THOMAS JEFFERSON 99 

aristocratic institutions of every kind. He was the friend of 
popular liberty. His integrity was above reproach. He loved 
a life of simplicity and retirement; and nowhere else does he 
appear more admirable than in the patriarchal dignity with which 
he presided over his large estate and numerous dependents at 
Monticello. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON 




163. Influence of Hered- 
ity. — It is not without 
reason that we inquire after 
the ancestry of our great 
men. The transmission of 
personal and national traits 
from parents to children is a 
well-established fact. While 
heredity does not explain 
every peculiarity in off- 
spring, it often furnishes us 
a key to leading traits. In 
order to understand any 
character thoroughly, it is 
necessary to know his ante- 
cedents. All this is illus- 
trated in Alexander Hamil- 
who was born on the island of Nevis, Jan. ii, 1757. 
'' From his father, a cool, deliberate, calculating Scotchman, he 
inherited the shrewdness, the logical habits of thought, which 
constitute the peculiar glory of the Scottish mind. From his 
mother, a lady of French extraction, and the daughter of a Hugue- 
not exile, he inherited the easy manners, the liveliness and vivacity, 
the keen sense of humor, the desire and the ability to please, 
which so eminently distinguish the children of the Celtic race." ^ 

164. Youthful Ambition. — When yet a mere boy, he was 
placed in a clerkship, and entrusted with the management of im- 
portant interests. He met the responsibilities thrown upon him 

1 McMaster, History of the People of the United States. 

100 



Alexander Hamilton 



ton, 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON 



lOI 



with extraordinary ability. But he was not at peace in the drudg- 
ery of his position. He felt in himself, as many other great men 
have felt in youth, the promise of higher things. In a letter pre- 
served to us from this period, he says : ''I contemn the grovelling 
condition of a clerk, or the like, to which my fortune condemns 
me, and would willingly risk my life, though not my character, 
to exalt my station. I am confident, Ned, that my youth excludes 
me from any hopes of immediate preferment, nor do I desire it ; 
but I mean to prepare the way for futurity." This ambitious 
purpose in a boy of thirteen contains the promise of future dis- 
tinction. 

165. Education. — He had a decided bent for Hterature. Pope 
and Plutarch were at that time his favorite authors. His unusual 




King's College about 1760 (Now Columbia University) 

abiUties began to attract attention, and finally funds were pro- 
vided to send him to America, where a wider field of opportunity 
was open to him. He reached Boston in October, 1772, and 
thence went to New York. By the advice of judicious friends, 
he entered a grammar school at Elizabethtown, where he pursued 
his studies with restless energy. His literary instinct found vent 
in both prose and poetry, which possessed noteworthy merit. 



I02 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

At the end of a year he entered King's (afterwards Columbia) 
College, where he continued his studies with characteristic vigor. 
" In the debating club," it has been said, " he was the most effec- 
tive speaker; in the recitation-room, the most thorough scholar; 
on the green, the most charming friend; in the trial of wit, the 
keenest satirist." Those who knew " the young West Indian," 
as he was called, recognized something extraordinary in him, and 
vaguely speculated about his promising future. 

166. A Colonial Patriot. — The colonies were now deeply stirred 
over their relations with England. The Revolutionary storm 
was gathering fast. Which side of the conflict was the prom- 
ising young collegian to espouse? His inclinations were at first 
on the side of Great Britain ; but it was not long " until he became 
convinced," to use his own words, '^ by the superior force of the 
arguments in favor of the colonial claims." Perhaps he instinc- 
tively felt, or with keen penetration discerned, that the eminence 
to which he aspired lay on the colonial side. An occasion was 
soon offered to embark in the patriot cause. A mass meeting 
was held in July, 1774, to urge New York, which was in possession 
of the Tories, to take its place along with the other colonies in 
resisting British aggression. Hamilton was present; and not 
satisfied with the presentation of the colonial cause in the speeches 
already delivered, he made his way to the stand, and after a few 
moments of embarrassment and hesitation, he astonished and 
captivated the crowd by an extraordinary outburst of youthful 
oratory. 

167. A Pamphleteer. — During the Revolutionary Period pubHc 
opinion was largely influenced by political pamphlets and elab- 
orate discussions in the newspapers. Hamilton was soon intro- 
duced into this species of controversy, for which his natural abilities 
fitted him in an eminent degree. In the discussion of political 
and constitutional questions he had no superior. In 1774 there 
appeared two ably written tracts that attacked the Continental 
Congress, and did the patriot cause considerable harm. To 
counteract their influence, Hamilton wrote two pamphlets in 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON . 103 

reply; and so ably did he vindicate the claims of the colonies, 
that in spite of his youth he at once took rank as a leader among 
the patriots. 

168. Resistance to Mob Violence. — Once fairly enlisted in the 
cause of American liberty, Hamilton's fiery nature made him 
active and aggressive. By pen and voice he continued to mould 
pubhc opinion. But his ardor never betrayed him into rashness. 
His love of order and justice restrained him from inconsiderate 
violence. He even risked his life and (what was perhaps more 
to him) his reputation with the people, in resisting the madness of 
a mob. When the British ship of war Asia opened fire on New 
York, a mob thronged the streets, threatening destruction to every 
Tory. Dr. Cooper, the president of the college, was one of the 
most prominent adherents of the crown; and thither the crowd 
rushed, bent upon mischief. But Hamilton already stood on the 
steps of the building, and arrested the tumultuous throng with his 
vigorous expostulations. 

169. A Military Officer. — But Hamilton's efforts in behalf of 
the colonies were not confined to words. After the battles of 
Lexington and Bunker Hill, it became increasingly evident that 
a peaceful solution of the controversy with Great Britain was 
no longer possible. In preparation for the inevitable appeal to 
arms, Hamilton studied military science, and to gain practical 
experience joined a company of volunteers. In several trying 
situations he displayed unflinching courage. In 1776 the New 
York convention ordered the organization of an artillery com- 
pany. Hamilton made application for the command, and estab- 
lished his fitness by a successful examination. He rapidly re- 
cruited his company, and expended of his own means to equip it. 
By constant drill he brought it to a high degree of efficiency. 
At the battle of .Long Island and of White Plains his battery 
rendered effective service. At the end of six months Hamilton 
had won the reputation of a brave and brilliant officer. 

170. On Washington's Staff .— The ability of Hamilton did 
not escape the attention of the commander-in-chief. Accord- 



104 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

ingly, in March, 1777, he was appointed a member of Wash- 
ington's staff, with the rank of Ueutenant-colonel. During the 
next four years he was intimately associated with the command- 
ing general, and in various capacities rendered him valuable 
aid. His chief duty, however, was the conduct of Washington's 
large correspondence. For this work his great natural gifts, as 
well as his previous training, peculiarly fitted him. A large 
part of the letters and proclamations issuing from headquarters 
at this time were the work of Hamilton. No doubt the great 
commander indicated their substance; but their admirable form 
was due, in part at least, to the skill of his able secretary. 

171. A Display of Anger. — But Hamilton's connection with 
Washington's staff came to an abrupt and unexpected end in 
February, 1781. Having been sent for by the commander-in- 
chief, he failed to respond promptly to the summons. When he 
made his appearance, after a brief delay, he was sharply reproved 
by Washington, who charged him with disrespect. The rebuke 
touched Hamilton's high-strung nature, and he replied : ''I am 
not conscious of it. Sir; but since you have thought it, we part." 
Under all the circumstances it seems difficult to justify this out- 
burst of the youthful aide. But he never liked the office of an 
aide-de-camp ; and there is reason to believe that he was irritated 
because he had not been preferred to more important posts to 
which he aspired. Though he rejected Washington's overtures 
looking to a restoration of their former relations, he continued to 
serve in the army with the rank of colonel, and at Yorktown he 
led an assault upon a British redoubt with resistless impetuosity. 

172. An Unpopular Leader. — Hamilton was never popular 
with the masses. His positive and aggressive character raised 
him above the low arts of the demagogue. He preferred to guide 
rather than to flatter the people. But he was never without loyal 
friends. His extraordinary force of character made him a centre 
of attraction for less positive natures. While his natural gifts 
made him a recognized leader, his generous nature inspired a loyal 
devotion. He was popular with his associates in the army ; and 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON 105 

the French officers especially, whose language he spoke with native 
fluency, regarded him with enthusiastic affection. 

173. A Statesman. — Whether under favorable circumstances 
Hamilton would have made a great general must remain a matter 
of speculation. But war was not the sphere for which his talents 
were best adapted. He was eminently gifted to be a statesman ; 
and while in active service in the army, he could not refrain from 
considering the political and financial needs of the country, and 
from suggesting a remedy for existing evils. In 1780 he addressed 
to Robert Morris, the financier of the Revolution, an anonymous 
letter, which is noted for the penetration with which it treats of 
the financial difficulties of the colonies. 

174. Marriage and Independence. — But Hamilton's thirst for 
military and civic glory did not prevent him from falling in love. 
There is no security against the shafts of Cupid but flight. On 
Dec. 14, 1780, he married Miss Elizabeth Schuyler, daughter of 
General Schuyler, and a charming and intelligent woman. Apart 
from the domestic happiness it brought him, the marriage allied 
him to an old, wealthy, and influential family. The only fortune 
Hamilton brought his bride was his brilliant talents and growing 
reputation ; but when his father-in-law generously offered him 
financial aid, he proudly declined to receive it. Conscious of his 
abilities, he felt able to make his way in the world alone. After 
leaving the army he entered upon the study of law, and after a 
brief course he was admitted to the bar in 1782. His strong logical 
mind and his great force of character fitted him to achieve distinc- 
tion in the legal profession. But his country had need of his 
services in a different and higher sphere. 

175. Patriotic Labors in Congress. — In November, 1782, he 
took his seat in Congress. That body had sadly declined in 
ability and" prestige. It was incapable of grappling with the 
serious problems that presented themselves, and the country 
seemed to be rapidly drifting to destruction. No longer held 
together by a sense of common danger, the Confederation was 
on the point of disintegrating. There was no adequate revenue; 



lo6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

the debts of the government were unprovided for; and the army 
was about to be disbanded without receiving its long arrears 
of pay. 

Hamilton made strenuous efforts to correct these evils. He 
advocated the levying of a duty on imports; set forth the 
necessity of maintaining the public credit and public honor; and 
urged a just and generous treatment of the army that had achieved 
American independence. But his efforts were in vain. The 
pusillanimous body could not rise equal to the situation. Local 
interests and jealousies prevailed over broad and patriotic senti- 
ments. Hamilton's career in Congress was not, however, without 
important results. It increased his reputation as a patriotic 
statesman, and also excited that distrust in democratic institu- 
tions that ever afterwards made him an advocate of a strongly 
centralized and, as some claimed, a monarchical form of govern- 
ment. 

176. " The Federalist." — Hamilton's greatest service followed 
the adoption of the Constitution by the convention. Though 
he was not thoroughly satisfied with it, he gave it his hearty 
support as the best thing attainable under existing conditions, 
and as a great improvement on the Articles of Confederation. 
In New York, as in the other States, there was a strong senti- 
ment against the Constitution. The opposition was thoroughly 
organized and ably led. As a part of the plan to prevent the 
ratification of the Constitution, it was attacked in a series of 
elaborate and well-planned essays. This was a field in which 
Hamilton was well-nigh matchless. He accepted the challenge, 
and with the assistance of Madison and Jay he prepared that 
powerful series of eighty-five essays forming the '^ Federalist." 
The effect was immediate and far-reaching. The " Federalist " 
did more than any other writing to secure the adoption and sup- 
port of the Constitution through the country. It is a profound 
disquisition on, the principles of our government, and has since 
been quoted as of the highest authority on constitutional ques- 
tions. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON 107 

177. Its Literary Qualities. — But it is more than a political 
and controversial treatise. Its masterly style raises it to the 
rank of real literature. Most of the controversial writings of 
the Revolutionary Period have been forgotten. Having served 
their temporary purpose, they have been swept into oblivion. 
But the '' Federalist " endures as one of the masterpieces of 
the human reason. Its sustained power is wonderful. The 
argument, clothed in elevated, strong, and sometimes eloquent 
language, moves forward with a mighty momentum that sweeps 
away everything before it. It is hardly surpassed in the litera- 
ture of the world as a model of masterful popular reasoning. By 
this production Hamilton won for himself a foremost place in the 
literature of his time. 

178. A Forensic Victory. — But the " Federalist " was not the 
only service he rendered the Constitution. It was chiefly through 
his able leadership that the New York convention adopted the 
Constitution. The result was one of the most noted triumphs ever 
achieved in a deliberative body. When the convention assem- 
bled, the Clintonian or Anti-Federalist party had forty-six out 
of sixty-five votes. " Two-thirds of the convention," wrote Hamil- 
ton, '' and four-sevenths of the people, are against us." In spite 
of the great odds against him, he entered into the contest with 
resolute purpose. The Anti-Federalists employed every artifice 
known to parliamentary tactics to delay and defeat ratification. 
Day after day the battle raged. Hamilton was constantly on 
his feet, defending, explaining, and advocating the Constitution. 
His mastery of the subject was complete; and gradually his co- 
gent and eloquent reasoning overcame partisan prejudice. '' At 
length Hamilton arose in the convention, and stating that Virginia 
had ratified the Constitution, and that the Union was thereby 
an accomplished fact, moved that they cease their contentions, 
and add New York to the new empire of Republican States." 
The vote was taken, and the Constitution adopted. 

179. Secretary of the Treasury. — The new government was 
organized early in 1789 ; and upon the establishment of the Treas- 



lo8 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

ury Department in September, Hamilton was called by Wash- 
ington to take charge of it. His practical wisdom never shone 
to better advantage. As Secretary of the Treasury, he left his 
impress upon the institutions of his country. He gave to the 
Treasury Department the organization it has since substantially 
retained. He was, perhaps, the master-spirit in putting the new 
government into practical operation. 

180. A Cabinet Feud. — The opposition to Hamilton's poUcy, 
which constantly aimed at strengthening the national govern- 
ment, at length took form as the Republican or Democratic party. 
Jefferson naturally became its head. Intensely republican at 
heart, he had come to entertain exaggerated, and even morbid, 
views concerning what he believed to be the monarchical aims 
of the FederaKsts. As a patriot and leader, he felt it his duty 
to arrest as far as possible this centralizing tendency. His rela- 
tions with Hamilton in the cabinet, to use his own phrase, sug- 
gested the attitude of " two cocks in a pit." The feud at length 
grew beyond Washington's power of conciliation, and Jefferson 
finally withdrew from the cabinet. 

181. Rank as a Publicist. — It is impossible, within the narrow 
limits of this sketch, to follow Hamilton through all the labors 
and controversies of his political career. He sometimes made 
mistakes, as in supporting the odious Alien and Sedition Laws; 
but beyond all question he stood among the foremost statesmen 
of his time. By some he is assigned the highest place. " There 
is not in the Constitution of the United States," says Guizot, 
" an element of order, of force, of duration, which he did not 
powerfully contribute to introduce into it, and to cause to pre- 
dominate." Talleyrand, who saw Hamilton in New York, said, 
'' I consider Napoleon, Fox, and Hamilton the three greatest 
men of our epoch, and without hesitation I award the first place 
to Hamilton." His official integrity, though, alas! not his moral 
character, was unsullied. The investigation of his conduct as 
Secretary of the Treasury, set on foot by his enemies in Congress, 
recoiled upon their own heads. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON lOQ 

182. A Brilliant Lawyer. — After serving nearly six years in 
Washington's cabinet, he retired in 1795 to private life, to gain 
an adequate support for his family. He resumed the practice 
of his profession in New York. His brilliant abilities and dis- 
tinguished public services immediately brought him an extensive 
practice. He speedily rose to the head of the bar. His legal 
acumen was profound, while his clear thought, copious and forcible 
language, and passionate energy of will gave him great power as 
an advocate. 

183. Duel and Death. — But the end was drawing near. His 
brilliant career was cut short by the requirements of a false and 
barbarous " code of honor." Hamilton did not allow his pro- 
fessional labors to destroy his interest in pubUc affairs. He con- 
tinued the leader of the Federalist party, not only in his adopted 
State, but in the country at large. In the poHtical contests of 
New York, his principal opponent was Aaron Burr, a brilliant but 
unprincipled man. Hamilton had twice thwarted Burr's political 
ambition. When at last he brought about the latter's defeat for 
the governorship of New York, Burr resolved upon a deadly re- 
venge. He sought a quarrel with Hamilton, and then challenged 
him. The duel was fought at Weehawken, July 11, 1804. At 
the first fire Hamilton fell mortally wounded, discharging his pistol 
in the air. His death caused an outburst of sorrow and indigna- 
tion that has scarcely been surpassed in the history of our country. 

184. Estimates of his Character. — In person Hamilton was 
considerably under size. But there was a force in his personality, 
a fire in his impassioned eye, that made him impressive. He was 
one of the most effective speakers of his time. In his social rela- 
tions he was genial, high-spirited, and generous. He was idolized 
by his family. Though he was never popular with the masses, 
whom he distrusted, he had the power of surrounding himself with 
a band of able and loyal followers. He was a great constructive 
thinker — a leader of leaders. In the judgment of his rival, Jefferson, 
he was " of acute understanding, disinterested, honest, and honor- 
able in all private transactions, amiable in society, and duly valuing 



no AMERICAN LITERATURE 

virtue in private life." Chancellor Kent pays a tribute to " his 
profound penetration, his power of analysis, the comprehensive 
grasp and strength of his understanding, and the firmness, frank- 
ness, and integrity of his character." Like all great men, perhaps, 
Hamilton was conscious of his power ; and at times it made him 
self-assertive and dictatorial. He relied for success, not upon 
treacherous diplomacy, but upon open methods, and, if need be, 
upon hard fighting. He possessed extraordinary versatihty of 
genius; and he was at once a brilliant officer, a powerful writer, 
an able lawyer, a great financier, a strong party leader, and a wise 
statesman. 

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

Consult the general bibhography. Annotated selections from 
Jefferson and Hamilton will be found on pages 423-438 of this 
volume. In addition read Jefferson's First Inaugural Address and 
Hamilton's Speech in the New York Convention on the Adoption 
of the Federal Constitution (The World's Famous Orations), 
J. T. Morse's " Thomas Jefferson " (American Statesmen Series), 
and Thos. E. Watson's '' Thomas Jefferson," Henry Cabot Lodge's 
" Alexander Hamilton " (American Statesmen Series), and James 
Schouler's " Alexander Hamilton " (Makers of America Series). 

For the historical background, in addition to the standard 
histories of the United States, Fiske's " The American Revolu- 
tion " (2 vols.) and " The War of Independence," and Lossing's 
'' Field Book of the Revolution," are recommended. Interesting 
extracts from original sources may be found in Hart's " American 
History Told by Contemporaries " and MacDonald's '' Docu- 
mentary Source Book of American History." 

Numerous extracts from the minor writers of this period may 
be found in the " Library of American Literature," Duyckinck's 
** Cyclopaedia of American Literature," Cairns's " Early American 
Writers," and Trent's " Southern Writers." Read Washington's 
" First Inaugural Address " and his " Farewell Address." Papers 
by members of the class on John Trumbull's " McFingal," Charles 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON III 

Brockden Brown's '' Wieland," Philip Freneau's Poems, and the 
''Songs and Ballads of the American Revolution" would prove 
interesting. 

The following poems celebrate incidents falling within the 
Revolutionary Period : Holmes's '' Ballad of the Boston Tea 
Party," Harriet Prescott Spofford's '' How We Became a Nation," 
Franklin's '' The Mother Country," Longfellow's '' Paul Revere's 
Ride," Holmes's '' Lexington," Whittier's " Lexington," Holmes's 
'' Grandmother's Story of Bunker Hill," Lowell's " The New Come 
Chief," Joseph Rodman Drake's ''The American Flag," Will 
Carleton's "The Little Black-eyed Rebel," Philip Freneau's 
" The Bonhomme Richard and Serapis," N. P. Willis's " Andre's 
Request to Washington," Longfellow's " Hymn of the Moravian 
Nuns of Bethlehem," Bryant's " Song of Marion's Men," Tenny- 
son's " England and America in 1782," Bryant's " O Mother of a 
Mighty Race," Whittier's " The Vow of Washington," Hopkin- 
son's " Hail Columbia," and Francis Scott Key's " The Star- 
Spangled Banner." 

Noteworthy fiction illustrating this period : John Esten Cooke's 
" Henry St. John " (1774-75), J. P. Kennedy's " Horse-Shoe 
Robinson " (1757-80), Harold Frederick's " In the Valley " 
(1757-80), James Fenimore Cooper's " The Pilot " (1778-79) and 
"The Spy" (1780), Maurice Thompson's "Alice of Old Vin- 
cennes " (1780), Paul Leicester Ford's "Janice Meredith," Win- 
ston Churchill's " Richard Carvel," S. Weir Mitchell's " Hugh 
Wynne," and Geo. Gary Eggleston's " A CaroHna CavaUer " 
(1779-80). 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 



REPRESENTATIVE WRITERS 

WASHINGTON IRVING 
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER 
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 
EDGAR ALLAN POE 
RALPH W.\LDO EMERSON 
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 

OTHER PROMINENT WRITERS 

Jacob Abbott (1803-1879). A native of Maine, and a voluminous author 
of books for the young. Among his works are the ** Rollo Books" (28 vols.), 
"The Lucy Books" (6 vols.), and Harper's " Story-Books" (36 vols.). 

John S. C. Abbott (1805-1877). Brother of Jacob Abbott, and, like him, a 
minister. Author of numerous moral and historical works, the latter 
being characterized by a partisan tone. Noteworthy are "History of 
Napoleon Bonaparte," "Napoleon at Saint Helena," " The French Revo- 
lution of 1789," etc. 

Amos Bronson Alcott (1799- 1888). Born in Connecticut. An educator 
and philosopher of interesting personaHty. Author of "Essays," "Table 
Talk," "Concord Days," and other works in prose and verse. 

Washington Allston (17 79-1843). A famous painter, poet, and prose 
writer, who, though bom in South Carolina, belongs by residence to 
Massachusetts. Author of the poem "The Sylphs of the Seasons," and 
the art novel "Monaldi." His "Lectures on Art" appeared after his 
death. 

"3 



114 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

George Bancroft ( 1800-189 i). A statesman and historian of Massachusetts. 
Minister to England 1846- 1849, and to Prussia and Germany 186 7- 18 74. 
Author of a standard "History of the United States," written in rhetorical 
style. (See text.) 

William Ellery Channing (1780-1842). Preacher, lecturer, and Unitarian 
leader of Massachusetts. Author of various works in prose and verse. 
Among his best prose writings are "Life and Character of Napoleon 
Bonaparte," "Milton," and "Self-Culture." 

Lydia Maria Child (1802-1880). A well-known editor and prose writer of 
Massachusetts. Among her numerous writings may be mentioned "Ho- 
bomok, an Indian Story," "The Rebels," a tale of the American Revolu- 
tion, "History of the Condition of Women in All Ages and Nations," 
"Looking toward Sunset," and "The Romance of the Republic." 

John Esten Cooke (1830-1886). A noted novelist and historian of Virginia. 
Among his novels, founded on the early history of Virginia and on the 
events of the Civil War, are "Henry St. John," "Surrey of Eagle's Nest," 
and "The Virginia Comedians." He wrote also a "Life of General Lee," 
and "Virginia, a History of the People." (See text.) 

Philip Pendleton Cooke (1816-1850). A lawyer and poet of Virginia. In 
1857 he pubUshed his "Froissart Ballads, and Other Poems," which con- 
tains his well-known lyric "Florence Vane." 

George William Curtis (1824-1892). Editor, essayist, and novelist of New 
York. A member of the famous Brook Farm Association. For thirty-five 
years he filled the Easy Chair department of Harper's Monthly, and was 
political editor of Harper's Weekly for nearly the same length of time. 
His principal works are" Prue and I," "Trumps," and "Potiphar Papers," 
a satire upon society. 

Richard Henry Dana (i 787-1879). A poet, editor, and prose writer of 
Massachusetts. One of the founders of the North American Review; 
author of "The Buccaneer, and Other Poems," and the novels "Tom 
Thornton," and "Paul Felton." 

Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820). A physician of New York City, author 
of "The Culprit Fay," a poem of considerable merit, and the well-known 
lyric, "The American Flag." A friend of Fitz-Greene Halleck, with 
whom he worked for a time in literary partnership. (See text.) 

Alexander H. Everett (1792-1847). Diplomatist and prose writer of 
Massachusetts. Ambassador at The Hague in 181 8, and at Madrid in 
1825. For several years editor and proprietor of the North American 
Review. His principal works are "Europe," "America," and "Critical 
and Miscellaneous Essays." 

Edward Everett (i 794-1865). A distinguished orator and statesman of 
Massachusetts. Editor of the North American Review, member of Con- 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD II^ 

gress, Governor of Massachusetts, Minister to the Court of Saint James, 
President of Harvard College, and Secretary of State. Principal works 
"Defence of Christianity," "Orations and Speeches," and "Importance 
of Practical Education." 

James T. Fields (1817-1881). A well-known publisher, editor, and author 
of Boston. Bom in New Hampshire. Edited the Atlantic Monthly from 
1861-1871. Besides a volume or two of verse, he wrote "Yesterdays 
with Authors," and "Underbrush," a collection of essays. 

Stephen Collins Foster (1826-1864). A famous song writer and composer 
of Pittsburgh and New York City. He set to music 1 25 or more songs, the 
words in nearly every case being his own. All English-speaking lands 
know his "Swanee River," "My Old Kentucky Home," "Nelly Bly," 
and "Old Black Joe." 

Samuel G. Goodrich (i 793-1860). A publisher and author of Boston and 
New York, best known as "Peter Parley." He wrote a series of books for 
children which extended through more than a hundred volumes. Among 
his other works are "The Outcast, and Other Poems," "Fireside Educa- 
tion," "History of All Nations," and "Illustrated Natural History." 

Sarah Josepha Hale (1788-1879). A poet, prose writer, and editor, who 
was bom in New Hampshire. Edited the Ladies' Magazine in Boston 
from 1828 to 1837, the first periodical in this country devoted exclusively 
to woman, and afterwards combined with Godey's Lady's Book of Phila- 
delphia, of which she was editor for forty years. Principal works, "The 
Genius of Oblivion, and Other Poems," "Northwood, a Tale," "Sketches 
of American Character," and "Woman's Record." 

Fitz-Greene Halleck (i 790-1867). A native of Connecticut, but for many 
years clerk in a New York banking-house, and later confidential adviser 
to John Jacob Astor. Author of a long poem called "Fanny," and of 
the stirring lyric, "Marco Bozzaris." (See text.) 

Paul Hamilton Hayne (i 830-1 886). A nativ^e of South CaroUna, and, 
considering the quantity and quality of his verse, one of the very best 
poets the South has produced. A complete edition of his "Poems" ap- 
peared in 1882. (See text.) 

Richard Hildreth (1807-1865). A lawyer and journalist of Boston, who 
wrote a "History of the United States" down to 1820. Among other 
things he wrote an antislavery novel, "Archy Moore," and "Japan as it 
Was and Is." 

JosiAH Gilbert Holland (1819-1881). Poet, novelist, and editor of Mas- 
sachusetts. Edited the Springfield Republican 1 849-1 866, and Scribner's 
Magazine from 1870 till his death. His longest poems are "Katrina," 
and "Bitter-Sweet"; his best novels are "Miss Gilbert's Career," "Arthur 
Bonnicastle," and "The Story of Sevenoaks." 



Il6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

John Pendleton Kennedy (i 795-1870). A novelist and politician of Mary- 
land, and Secretary of the Navy under Fillmore. He wrote old-time 
society novels, among which are " Swallow Barn," "Horse-Shoe Robinson," 
and "Rob "of the Bowl." 

Francis Scott Key (i 779-1843). A lawyer and poet of Maryland. His 
"Poems" were published after his death in 1857, with a sketch by his 
brother-in-law, Chief Justice Taney. His literary fame is due chiefly 
to "The Star-Spangled Banner," written during the bombardment of Fort 
McHenry. 

Benson J. Lossing (18 13-189 i). A biographer and historian of New York, 
Among his numerous works are a "Life of Washington," "Field-Book 
of the Revolution," and "Pictorial History of the United States." 

George P. Morris (i 802-1 864). A journalist and poet of New York City. 
In 1823, with Samuel Woodworth, he established The New York Mirror. 
Among his works are "The Deserted Bride, and Other Poems," "The 
Whip-poor-will, a Poem," "American Melodies," and, in conjunction 
with Willis, "The Prose and Poetry of Europe and America." His most 
popular piece is "Woodman, Spare that Tree." 

John Lothrop Motley (1814-1877). A distinguished author of Massachu- 
setts, who wrote an admirable series of historical works relating to Hol- 
land : "The Rise of the Dutch Republic," "The History of the United 
Netherlands," and "Life of John of Barneveld." He wrote, also, two 
novels, "Morton's Hope " and "Merry Mount." (See text.) 

Theodore O'Hara (1820-1867). A native of Kentucky. Soldier in the 
Mexican and Civil Wars, remembered for his poem "The Bivouac of the 
Dead." 

Frances Sargent Osgood (181 2-1850). A poet and magazine writer of Massa- 
chusetts. A volume of poems, "A Wreath of Wild Flowers from New Eng- 
land," was much admired in its day. "Mrs. Osgood," wrote Poe, "has a 
rich fancy, — even a rich imagination, — a scrupulous taste, a faultless 
style, and an ear finely attuned to the delicacies of melody." 

Margaret Fuller Ossoli (1810-1850). A gifted woman of Massachusetts. 
Editor of t*he Dial and author of "Woman in the Nineteenth Century," 
"Art, Literature, and the Drama," "At Home and Abroad," etc. 

James Gorham Palfrey (1796-1881). A Unitarian clergyman of Cam- 
bridge, Mass., and Professor in Harvard University. He wrote a pains- 
taking "History of New England." 

Francis Parkman (1823-1893). An eminent historian of Massachusetts, 
who wrote a number of volumes under the general title, "France and 
England in North America." Of special interest are the " Conspiracy of 
Pontiac," "A Half Century of Conflict," and "The Jesuits in North 
America." 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD II7 

James K. Paulding (i 779-1860). A versatile author of New York City, 
though born in Maryland. Secretary of the Navy under Van Buren. 
Among his numerous writings are "The Diverting History of John Bull 
and Brother Jonathan," "The Dutchman's Fireside," "Life of George 
Washington," and a spirited defence of slavery in America. (See text.) 

John Howard Payne (1792-1852). A dramatist and actor of New York City, 
in whose drama of "Clari, the ]Maid of Milan," occurs the famous song 
"Home, Sweet Home." Other plays are "Brutus" "Virginius," and 
"Charles H." 

James Gates Percival (i 795-1 856). A native of Connecticut, Professor of 
Chemistry at West Point, and State Geologist of Wisconsin. Assisted 
Noah Webster in revising his large dictionary. He published several vol- 
umes of poetr>', the last and best known ef which is entitled "The Dream 
of Day, and Other Poems." 

Edward Coate Pinkney (1802-1828). A lawyer and poet of Baltimore. He 
displayed an excellent lyric gift in the volume of "Poems" published in 
1825. 

George D. Prentice (180 2- 18 70). An editor and poet, who, through the 
Journal, made Louisville one of the literary centres of the South. He 
wrote a "Life of Henry Clay," and a collection of his witty and pungent 
paragraphs has been published under the title "Prenticeana." His 
best poems are "The Closing Year" and "The Flight of Years." 

William Hickling Prescott (i 796-1850). A celebrated historian of Boston. 
Author of a series of standard histories on Spanish themes: "History of 
Ferdinand and Isabella," "Conquest of Mexico," "Conquest of Peru," 
and "Philip the Second." (See text.) 

Thomas Buchanan Read (1822-1872). A painter and poet of Philadelphia. 
His first volume of poems appeared in 1837. Among his other works are 
"The Female Poets of America," "The New Pastoral," "The Wagoner 
of the Alleghanies." His most popular poem is "Sheridan's Ride," 
though poetically inferior to " Drifting." 

John Godfrey Saxe (1816-1887). A journalist and poet of New York, though 
bom in Vermont. In humorous poetry he ranks next to Holmes. The 
titles of his successive works are "The Money King, and Other Poems," 
"Clever Stories of Many Nations," "The Masquerade," "Fables and 
Legends of Many Countries," etc. 

Catharine Maria Sedgwick (i 780-1867). A famous educator and novelist 
of Massachusetts. She conducted a school for girls at Stockbridge for 
fifty years. Among her novels are "Hope Leslie," "Clarence," "A New 
England Tale," and "Redwood," which had the distinction of being 
reprinted in England and translated into several Continental languages. 

Lydia Huntly Sigourney (i 791-1865). A Connecticut writer of both prose 



Il8 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

and poetry; well described as "The American Hemans." Among her 
fifty-three volumes are "Traits of the Aborigines of America," "Past 
Meridian," "Letters to Young Ladies," "Poems," etc. 

William Gilmore Simms (1806-1870). A native of South Carolina, and 
voluminous writer of fiction and poetry. He wrote a dozen volumes of 
verse, among which are "Atalantis" and "Areytos, or Songs and Ballads 
of the South," and some thirty romances, among which are "The Yemas- 
see," "The Partisan," and "Beauchampe." (See text.) 

Jared Sparks (1789-1866). A native of Connecticut. Unitarian minister, 
president of Harvard, and historian. Edited "American Biography," 
which includes sixty lives; also editor of the "Diplomatic Correspondence 
of the American Revolution," "The Writings of George Washington," etc. 

Harriet Beecher Stowe (181 2-1896). A native of Connecticut, and author 
of numerous novels of unequal merit. Her "Uncle Tom's Cabin" has 
been, perhaps, the most widely read of American books. Other novels 
are "The Minister's Wooing," "The Pearl of Orr's Island," "Oldtown 
Folks," etc. 

Bayard Taylor (1825-1878). A well-known traveller, poet, and novelist of 
Pennsylvania. Among his best works are "Views Afoot," "Byways of 
Europe," "Lars, a Pastoral of Norway," "Masque of the Gods," "Prince 
Deukahon," "Story of Kennett," and a translation of Goethe's "Faust," 
by which he will be longest known. 

John R. Thompson (1823-1873). A lawyer and litt6rateur of Virginia. Editor 
of The Southern Literary Messenger from 1847 to 1859. Once popular as 
a lyric poet. 

Henry David Thoreau (181 7-1862). An eccentric recluse and student of 
nature. Born in Massachusetts. Author of "Walden; or. Life in the 
Woods," "Cape Cod," "The Maine Woods," etc. 

Henry Timrod (1829-1867). A poet and editor of South Carolina. He 
possessed a genuine lyrical gift. His "Poems" were published in 1873 
with a generous tribute by Hayne. (See text.) 

William Ware (179 7-1 85 2). Unitarian minister, lecturer, editor of the 
Christian Examiner, and historical novelist of New York City. Prin- 
cipal works, "Zenobia," originally published in the Knickerbocker Maga- 
zine, "Aurelian," describing Rome in the third century, and "Julian, or 
Scenes in Judea," in which the most striking incidents in the life of Jesus 
are described. 

Richard Henry Wilde (i 789-1 847)." A lawyer and member of Congress, 
from Georgia, author of a "Life of Tasso," and the beautiful lyric, "My 
Life is Like the Summer Rose." 

Nathaniel P. Willis (1806- 186 7). A popular litterateur of New York 
City, editor of The Mirror. Once overrated and now, perhaps, unduly 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 



119 



neglected. His "Sacred Poems" are excellent, as are also some of his 
miscellaneous pieces. Among his other works are "People I have Met," 
"Pencillings by the Way," and "Letters from under a Bridge." 
Samuel Woodworth (i 786-1842). A publisher, prose writer, and poet of 
New York City, though born in Massachusetts. One of the founders of 
The New York Mirror, long the most popular journal in this country. 
Author of an "Account of the War with Great Britain," and a volume of 
" Poems, Odes, and Songs," the most popular of which is "The Old Oaken 
Bucket." 

Contemporary Writers in England 

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832); Lord Byron (1788-1824); William 
Wordsworth (1770-1850); Thomas De Quincey (1785-1859); 
Thomas Campbell (1777-1844); John Keats (1795-1821); Robert 
Southey (1774-1843); Thomas Moore (1779-1852); Thomas Hood 
(1798-1845); Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822); Samuel Taylor 
Coleridge (1772-1834); Thomas Babixgtox Macaulay (1800-1859) ; 
Willl\m Makepeace Thackeray (1811-1862); Elizabeth Barrett 
Browning (1806-1861). 



IV 

FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 

(1815-1861) 

, 185. National Expansion. — The First National Period 
extends from the close of the War of 181 2 to the beginning 
of the Civil War. It covers nearly half a century, and exhibits 
great national expansion. The arduous tasks imposed upon 
the people during the Colonial and Revolutionary Periods were 
successfully achieved. The dreams of our forefathers began 
to be realized. " America," says Hegel, '^ is the land of the 
future, where in the ages that lie before us the burden of the 
world's history shall reveal itself." During the period under 
consideration it made a long stride toward its coming greatness. 
186. Growth of Population. — With the establishment of 
peace in 181 5, the United States entered upon an unparalleled 
era of prosperity. The development of the country went for- 
ward with great rapidity. Ah increasing tide of immigration, 
chiefly from Great Britain, Ireland, and Germany, swept to our 

CONTEMPORARY EVENTS IN ENGLAND 

George IV, 1820-1830. China compelled to Open Ports, 1842. 

William IV, 1830-1837. Famine in Ireland, 1846. 

Victoria, 1837-1901. Repeal of Corn Laws, 1846. 

Passage of Reform Bill, 1832. First World's Fair, 185 1. 

Emancipation of Slaves, 1833. The Crimean War, 1854. 

The Opium War with China, 1839. The Indian Mutiny, 1857. 

First Atlantic Cable, 1858. 
120 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 121 

shores. Of kindred blood, the great body of immigrants 
readily adjusted themselves to their new surroundings, and 
vigorously joined with our native-born people in developing 
the agricultural, mineral, and industrial resources of our 
country. The population increased from 8,438,000 in 181 5 
to 32,000,000 in 1 86 1, thus equalKng the leading nations of 
Europe. 

187. The Mississippi Valley. — The great valley of the 
Mississippi was occupied. Its fertility made it one of the 
most favored agricultural regions in the world. The invention 
of agricultural machinery made it possible to harvest immense 
crops of wheat and corn, for which a market was found in 
Europe. Trade and manufactures naturally attended upon 
agriculture ; and, as a result, flourishing towns and cities 
sprang up with unexampled rapidity. Cincinnati grew from a 
town of 5000 in 181 5 to a city of 161,000 in i860, while the 
growth of St. Louis and Chicago was still more phenomenal. 

188. Manufactures and Commerce. — The Atlantic States 
showed a development no less remarkable. The frontier, 
carried beyond the Mississippi, made the toils and dangers of 
border life a tradition. The invention of the steam-engine 
gave a new impulse to commerce and manufacture. In addi- 
tion to excellent highways, railroads traversed the country in 
all directions. The New England States developed large 
manufacturing interests. The seaboard cities grew in size, 
wealth, and culture. Baltimore increased from 49,000 in 
181 5 to 212,000 in i860. Within the same period Boston 
increased from 38,000 to 177,000; Philadelphia from 100,000 
to 508,000 ; and New York from 100,000 to 813,000. 

189. Educational Progress. — The intellectual culture of 
the people kept pace with their material expansion. The 
pubHc-school system was extended from New England through- 



122 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

out the free States. In the West liberal appropriations of land 
were made for their support. Gradually the courses of study 
aiid the methods of instruction were improved through the 
efforts of intelHgent educators Hke Horace Mann and Henry 
Barnard. Schools of secondary education were founded in all 
parts of the country. No fewer than one hundred and forty- 
nine colleges were established between 1815 and 1861. These 
institutions, liberally supported by denominational zeal or by 
private munificence, became centres of Hterary culture. 
Harvard College exerted an astonishing influence. Between 
1821 and 183 1 it graduated Emerson, Holmes, Lowell, Sumner, 
Phillips, Motley, and Thoreau. Bancroft and Prescott were 
graduated at an earlier date. Longfellow, though a graduate 
of Bowdoin, for some years filled the chair of Modern Lan- 
guages. This list, as will be seen, contains a number of the 
most honored names in American literature. 

190. Periodical Literature. — The periodical press became 
a powerful agency in the diffusion of knowledge. In no other 
country, perhaps, has greater enterprise been shown in periodi- 
cal hterature than in America. Our newspapers, as a rule, 
show more energy, and our magazines more taste, than those of 
Europe. In i860 there were 4051 papers and periodicals, cir- 
culating annually 927,951,000 copies, an average of thirty- 
four copies for each man, woman, and child in the country. 
They gradually rose in excellence, and stimulated literary pro- 
duction. A few of our ablest writers, Bryant, Poe, Whittier, 
and Lowell, served as editors. The North American Review, 
which was founded in 181 5, numbered among its contributors 
nearly every writer of prominence in the First National Period. 

191. Favorable Conditions. — As the foregoing considera- 
tions show, our country now, for the first time, presented con- 
ditions favorable to the production of general literature. The 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 



123 



stress of the Colonial and Revolutionary Periods was removed, 
and the intellectual energies of the people were freer to engage 
in the arts of peace. The growing wealth of the country 
brought the leisure and culture that create, to a greater or less 
degree, a demand for the higher forms of Hterature. The 
large cities became literary centres. Large pubhshing-houses 







A Modern Printing Press 



were established. Under these circumstances it is not strange 
that there appeared writers in poetry, fiction, and history 
who attained a high degree of excellence. Irving, Cooper, 
Bryant, Hawthorne, Longfellow, Bancroft, Prescott, and 
others are names that reflect credit upon their country. 

192. The West and South. — It will be noticed that nearly 
all the great writers of this period were from New England. 
It was there that the conditions were most favorable. The 
West was still too new for much literary activity. Like the 



124 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

early colonists, the people were engaged in the great task of 
subduing an untamed country. In the South the social condi- 
tions were hardly favorable to literature. Slavery retarded 
the intellectual as well as the material development of the 
Southern States. It checked manufacture, and turned immi- 
gration westward. While the slaveholding class were generally 
intelligent, and often highly cultured, the rest of the white 
population were comparatively ilHterate. The public-school 
system, regarded as unfavorable to the existing social relations, 
was not adopted. The energies of the dominant class were 
devoted to politics rather than to literature. Thus, while the 
South had great debaters and orators, like Calhoun and Clay 
and Robert Y. Hayne, it did not, during this period, produce 
many writers of eminence. 

193. Special Influence. — So far our inquiry has sought an 
explanation of the literary activity of this period. The general 
causes, as in every period of literary bloom, are sufficiently 
patent. We may now examine the influences that gave 
literature its distinctive character as contrasted with that 
of the preceding periods. The results will not be without 
interest. 

194. Invention and Science. — The period under considera- 
tion witnessed a wonderful stride in the march of human 
progress. There was a renaissance, based not on a restoration 
of ancient literature, but upon invention and science. It was 
not confined to any one country, but extended throughout the 
Christian world. It is not necessary to enumerate the various 
inventions which in a few decades revolutionized the entire 
system of agriculture, manufacture, and commerce. The 
drudgery of life was greatly relieved, the products of human 
industry were vastly increased, and the comforts of life largely 
multiplied. The nations of the earth were drawn closer 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 12$ 

together, and the intellectual horizon was extended until it 
embraced, not a single province, but the civilized world. 

195. Spirit of Scientific Inquiry. — But the period was 
distinguished scarcely less by its spirit of scientific inquiry. 
Emancipating themselves largely from the authority of tradi- 
tion, men learned to look upon the world for themselves. 
Patient toilers carefully accumulated facts upon which to base 
their conclusions. All the natural sciences were wonderfully 
expanded. The origin of man, the history of the past, the 
laws of society, were all brought under new and searching 
investigation. As a result of all this scientific inquiry, a flood 
of light was shed upon the principal problems of nature and 
life. Christendom was lifted to a higher plane of intelligence 
than it had ever reached before. 

196. Literature Enriched. — This general renaissance pro- 
duced a corresponding change in literature. It enriched litera- 
ture with new treasures of truth. It taught men to look upon 
the universe in a different way. Literary activity was stimu- 
lated, and both poetry and prose were cultivated to an extraor- 
dinary degree. New forms of literature were devised to hold 
the rich fruitage everywhere at hand. The frigid classicism 
of the age of Pope was abandoned as artificial and inadequate. 
The creative impulse of genius demanded untrammelled free- 
dom. The essay acquired a new importance. History was 
suffused with a philosophic spirit that gave it greater depth. 
Fiction entered a broader field, and, while ministering to pleas- 
ure, became the handmaid of history, science, and social 
philosophy. 

197. Influence of Great Britain. — The effect of this renais- 
sance was felt in America largely by reflection. The literary 
expansion we have been considering went forward more rapidly 
in the British Isles than in the United States. It had already 



126 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

begun there, while the people of this country were still strug- 
gling with -the great problems of political independence and 
national government. Before the close of the Revolutionary 
period here, Cowper and Burns had given a new direction to 
poetry in Great Britain. 

During the period under consideration, there arose in Eng- 
land and Scotland a group of able writers who were pervaded 
by the modern spirit, and who, to a greater or less degree, in- 
fluenced contemporary literature in America. Scott wrote his 
masterful historical novels. Wordsworth interpreted the in- 
audible voices of mountain, field, and sky. Byron poured 
forth his eloquent descriptions, irreverent satire, and sombre 
misanthropy. Carlyle and Macaulay infused new life into his- 
tory and essay. Dickens and Thackeray held up the mirror to 
various phases of social life. Coleridge interpreted to England 
the profound thoughts of German philosophy. The Edinburgh 
Review, founded by Jeffrey, Sydney Smith, and Henry 
Brougham, exercised its lordly dominion in the realm of letters. 

198. Question of State Rights. — During the First National 
Period, there were two political questions that exerted a con- 
siderable influence upon the literature of this country. These 
were State rights and slavery. At frequent intervals these 
questions came up to disturb the public peace. For half a 
century they were dealt with in a spirit of compromise. But 
the views held and the interests involved were too conflicting 
to be permanently settled without an appeal to force. The 
statesmen of the South generally maintained the doctrine of 
State rights. It was boldly proclaimed in the United States 
Senate that a State had the right, under certain circumstances, 
to nullify an act of Congress. In 1830 Webster attained the 
height of his forensic fame by his eloquent reply to Hayne on 
the doctrine of nullification. 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 



127 



199. Slavery. — The question of slavery was still more 
serious. It was closely interwoven with the social organiza- 
tion of the South. The invention of the cotton gin in 1793 
increased the demand for slave labor. The yield of cotton 
was rapidly increased from year to year, till in i860 it reached 
the enormous figure of 2,054,698,800 pounds. Thus cotton 
became a source of great national wealth ; and, as a result, 
slavery was intrenched be- 
hind the commercial and 
selfish interests of a large 
and influential class in all 
parts of the country. 

200. Agitation for Aboli- 
tion. — Nevertheless, there 
was a growing moral senti- 
ment against slavery. It 
was felt to be a contradic- 
tion of the Declaration of 
Independence, and a viola- 
tion of the natural rights 
of man. In 1830 William 
Lloyd Garrison began the 
publication of an antislav- 
ery paper called The Liberator, and with passionate zeal de- 
nounced a constitution that protected slavery, as '' a league 
with death and a covenant with hell." The agitation for 
abolition was begun. In 1833 an antislavery society was 
formed. Whittier, Longfellow, Lowell, Phillips, and others 
lent the weight of their influence and the skill of their pens 
to the antislavery movement. Harriet Beecher Stowe exerted 
no small influence upon public sentiment in the North by 
" Uncle Tom's Cabin," a work in which the cruelties of slavery 




Harriet Beecher Stowe 



128 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

were graphically depicted. In a few years the abolition party 
became strong enough to enter national politics. The feel- 
ing between the North and the South became more pro- 
nounced and irreconcilable. Finally attempted secession pre- 
cipitated a civil war, which resulted in the abolition of slavery, 
and the cementing of our country into a homogeneous and in- 
dissoluble union. 

201. Distinctive American Literature. — With the First 
National Period our literature assumed, to some extent at 
least, a distinctively American character. New themes, 
requiring original treatment, were presented to the literary 
worker. In the East, Indian life had become sufficiently re- 
mote to admit of idealistic treatment. In Cooper's works the 
Indian is ideahzed as much as the mediaeval knight in the 
novels of Scott. The picturesque elements in pioneer life 
were more clearly discerned. The wild life of the frontiersman 
began to appear in fiction, which, possessing the charm of 
novelty, was cordially received abroad. In the older parts 
of the country, tradition lent a legendary charm to various 
localities and different events. The legends of the Indians 
were found to possess poetical elements. From these sources 
Irving, Longfellow, Hawthorne, and Simms drew the materials 
for some of their most original and popular works. 

202. Unitarian Controversy. — In the first half of the cen- 
tury there were in New England two closely related movements 
that deserve mention for their important effect upon literature. 
The first was the Unitarian controversy. Though the Unitarian 
doctrine is old, and was held by a few New England churches 
in the eighteenth century, the controversy began in 1805, when 
Henry Ware, a learned Unitarian, was elected professor of di- 
vinity in Harvard College. The capture of this leading institu- 
tion by the Unitarians naturally provoked a theological conflict. 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 1 29 

The champions on the Unitarian side were Henry Ware, 
William Ellery Channing, and Andrews Norton; on the 
Trinitarian side, Leonard Woods, Moses Stuart, and Lyman 
Beecher. From 18 15 to 1830 the discussion was the leading 
question of the time. Though conducted with great earnest- 
ness on both sides, the controversy was without that venom- 
ous character distinguished as odium theologicum. A large num- 
ber of Congregational churches adopted the Unitarian belief. 
Emphasizing the moral duties rather than the doctrinal be- 
liefs of Christianity, the Unitarians became very active in 
education, philanthropy, and reform. It is not too much to 
say that all the leading writers of New England felt the stimu- 
lating and liberalizing influence of the Unitarian movement. 

203. Transcendental Movement. — The other movement 
referred to belongs to the sphere of philosophy, though it also 
affected religious belief. It has been characterized as trans- 
cendentalism. In spite of the levity with which the movement 
has sometimes been treated, it was an earnest protest against 
a materialistic philosophy, which teaches that the senses are 
our only source of knowledge. It was a reaction against what 
is dull, prosaic, and hard in everyday life. The central thing 
in transcendentalism is the belief that the human mind has the 
power to attain truth independently of the senses and the 
understanding. Emerson, himself a leading transcendentalist, 
defines it as follows : " What is popularly called Transcen- 
dentalism among us is Idealism : Idealism as it appears in 
1842. As thinkers, mankind have ever divided into two sects. 
Materialists and Idealists ; the first class founding on expe- 
rience, the second on consciousness ; the first class beginning 
to think from the data of the senses, the second class perceive 
that the senses are not final, and say, the senses give us repre- 
sentations of things, but what are the things themselves, they 



I30 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

cannot tell. The materialist insists on facts, on history, on 
the force of circumstances and the animal wants of man ; the 
idealist on the power of Thought and of Will, on inspiration, on 
miracle, on individual culture." 

204. Origin and Effects. — This idealistic or transcendental 
philosophy did not originate in New England, though it re- 
ceived a special coloring and application there. It began 
in Germany with the writings of Kant, Fichte, and SchelKng ; 
it was transported to England by Coleridge and Carlyle, 
through whose works it first made its way to America. It 
abounded in profound and fertile thought. It was taken up 
by a remarkable group of men and women in Boston and Con- 
cord, among whom were Emerson, Alcott, Thoreau, Parker, 
and Margaret Fuller. Their organ (for every movement at 
that time had to have its periodical) was The Dial. Trans- 
cendentalism exerted an elevating influence upon New England 
thought, and gave to our literature one of its greatest writers 
in the person of Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

205. Various Disturbing Problems. — Contemporary with 
the transcendental movement, all sorts of novelties and proj- 
ects of reform kept New England in a state of ferment. 
Spiritualism, phrenology, and mesmerism attracted much 
attention. Temperance, woman's rights, and socialism were 
all discussed in public gatherings and in the press. Many of 
these schemes, which aimed at the regeneration of society, had 
the sympathy and encouragement of the transcendentalists. 
Some of their leading spirits participated in the Brook Farm 
experiment, which was based on the communistic teachings of 
Fourier. Though the experiment ended in failure, it gave the 
world -Hawthorne's " Blithedale Romance," in which the 
author utilized the observations made during his residence 
in the famous phalanstery. 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 



131 



206. Group of Historians — Bancroft. — During this period 
New England produced a group of historians who have reflected 
credit upon American letters. To exhaustive research and 
judicial calmness, they have added the charm of literary grace. 
Bancroft's " History of the United States " in twelve volumes 
begins with Columbus and ends in 1789. The first volume 
appeared in 1834 ; and to the completion of the work he 
devoted a large part of his laborious life. The last volume did 
not appear till 1882. His style is elaborate and rhetorical, and 
the work abounds in eloquent passages. 

207. Prescott. — Prescott is a historian of wide range. 
Though heavily handicapped by partial blindness, he was able, 
through ample means and 
indefatigable industry, to 
achieve great eminence. 
His chosen field was 
Spanish history ; and he 
spared neither pains nor 
expense in accumulating 
large stores of material. 
His '^ History of Ferdi- 
nand and Isabella," which 
occupied him for eleven 
years, appeared in 1827. 
It was at once translated 
into five European lan- 
guages, and established 
his reputation as the fore- 
most historian of America. His " Conquest of Mexico " 
(1843), ''Conquest of Peru" (1847), and ''Philip the 
Second " (1858) were received with equal favor. Apart 
from its thorough sifting of material and its judicial fair- 




WlLLIAM HiCKLING PrESCOTT 



132 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

ness, his work is characterized by grace and eloquence of 
style. 

208. Motley. — Motley deserves a place beside his illus- 
trious contemporary historians. If less ornate in style, he 
is scarcely less interesting. Like Bancroft and Prescott, he 
was educated at Harvard. In 1849 ^^ published a novel en- 
titled " Merry Mount, a Romance of Massachusetts Colony." 
But the principal literary labors of his life were devoted to 
history. In 1855 he published his " Rise of the Dutch Re- 
public," which had cost him ten years of toil. Its superior 
merit was at once recognized ; and shortly afterwards it was 
translated into French under the supervision of Guizot, who 
wrote an introduction. Motley continued to cultivate the 
same field almost to the close of his life. His " History of the 
United Netherlands," the first part of which appeared in i860, 
was completed eight years later. " The Life and Death of 
John of Barneveld," his last great historical work, was issued 
in 1874; and, like its predecessors, was received with great 
favor. 

209. Literature and Public Service. — It is deserving of 
notice that many of our American authors have been more 
than mere men of letters. They have been distinguished 
citizens as well, and have served their country in important 
positions at home and abroad. Bancroft was appointed 
Secretary of the Navy in 1845, ^-nd established the Naval 
Academy at Annapolis. Afterwards he served as United 
States minister to Great Britain, 1846-1849, to Russia in 1867, 
and to the German Empire, 1 871-1874. Motley was ap- 
pointed United States minister to Austria in 1861, where he 
remained for the next six years. He was made minister to 

.England in 1869, from which mission, however, he was recalled 
the year following without apparent good reason. The distin- 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 1 33 

guished labors of Irving and Lowell abroad will appear in the 
more extended sketches to follow. 

210. ''Knickerbocker School." — A group of writers in 
New York, without sufficient reason sometimes called '' the 
Knickerbocker school," deserve more than passing notice. 
Washington Irving, the principal writer of this group, is 
reserved for special study. The other prominent members 
were James Kirke Paul- 
ding, Joseph Rodman 
Drake, and Fitz-Greenc 
Halleck. 

211. Paulding.— Paul- 
ding, whose educational 
advantages never ex- 
tended beyond those of 
a village school, deserves 
to be regarded as a self- 
made man. In early 
manhood he became the 
intimate friend of William 
and Washington Irving, 

with whom he co-operated 

in the publication of . ,. , 

. James K. Paulding 

the Salmagundi papers. 

" The Diverting History of John Bull and Brother Jona- 
than " is a good-natured satire on the attitude of England 
before the breaking out of hostilities in 181 2. His pamphlet, 
" The United States and England " (1814), attracted the atten- 
tion of President Madison, and thus opened the way to his 
political career, in which he became Secretary of the Navy 
under a subsequent administration. His principal poetical 
work is the " Backwoodsman," a narrative poem of six books, 




134 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

devoted to American scenery, incident, and sentiment. It 
never became popular. 

212. His Versatility. — Paulding's prolific pen continued 
active for many years, and the long list of his writings contains 
poetry, novels, tales, biography, and satire. '' The Dutch- 
man's Fireside," a story based on the manners of the old Dutch 
settlers, was his most popular work. It passed through six 
editions within a year ; and besides its republication in London, 
it was translated into French and Dutch. Paulding's writings 
were tinged with a humorous and satirical spirit ; but the most 
noteworthy element in his writings was, perhaps, their dis- 
tinctive national character. He was an ardent patriot; and 
it is American scenery and American character to which his 
genius is chiefly devoted. 

213. Drake. — Drake exhibited in childhood a remarkable 

poetic precocity. It was as true of him as of Pope that " he 

lisped in numbers, for the numbers came." His juvenile 

poem, ^' The Mocking Bird," shows unusual maturity of 

thought and expression. His early years were disciplined by 

poverty. After taking his degree in medicine, he married the 

daughter of a wealthy shipbuilder in i8i6, and two years later 

went abroad. Travel added to his stores of culture. On his 

return he spent a winter in New Orleans in the vain endeavor 

to restore his health. He died of consumption in 1820. His 

monument bears the simple tribute written by his friend 

Halleck : — 

"None knew him but to love him, 
Nor named him but to praise." 

214. " The American Flag." — On his return from Europe 
in 18 1 9, he wrote the first of the Croaker series of poems for 
the Evening Post. It was entitled " Ennui," and character- 
ized by the editor as '' the production of genius and taste." 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 



135 



In this series of forty poems, mostly humorous and satirical, 
he was aided by Halleck under the pen-name of Croaker, Jr. 
It was in this series that he published ^' The American Flag," 
the often quoted poem by which, perhaps, he is chiefly remem- 
bered. 

"When Freedom from her mountain height 
Unfurled her standard to the air, 
She tore the azure robe of night, 
And set the stars of glory there." 

215. " The Culprit Fay." — '' The Culprit Fay," his longest 
and best poem, grew out of a conversation with Cooper, Hal- 
leck, and DeKay, in which these gentlemen maintained that 
American streams, unlike those 
of Scotland with their romantic 
associations, were not adapted 
to the uses of poetry. Drake 
took the opposite side ; and in 
vindication of his position, he 
wrote this poem of exquisite 
fancy and description. 

216. Halleck. — Halleck was 
a native of Connecticut, but at 
the age of twenty-one he went to 
New York to seek his fortune. 
He first entered a banking-house 
as clerk, and afterwards became 
a bookkeeper in the private office of John Jacob Astor. His 
literary bent found expression in a few juvenile poems ; but 
it was his work in connection wath the Croaker poems in the 
Evening Post that first gave him celebrity. The following 
stanza from " Cutting " will give an idea of the tone and 
spirit of the Croaker series : — 




FiTz- Greene Halleck 



136 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"The world is not a perfect one, 

All women are not wise or pretty, 
All that are willing are not won, — 

More's the pity — more's the pity ! 
'Playing wall-flower's rather flat,' 

L 'Allegro or Penseroso — 
Not that women care for that — 

But oh ! they hate the slighting beau so ! " 

217. " Marco Bozzaris." — '' Fanny " is a satirical poem, 
which made a hit. The first edition was soon exhausted. 
But his principal claim upon our remembrance rests on the 
stirring ballad " Marco Bozzaris," which appeared in 1825 
in the United States Review, edited by William Cullen Bryant. 
His poem on Burns, though burdened with not a few weak 
stanzas, contains some just and melodious characterization. 
Through care, and pain, and woe, — 

*'He kept his honesty and truth. 
His independent tongue and pen. 
And moved, in manhood as in youth. 
Pride of his fellow-men." 

218. Richmond a Literary Centre. — It has been com- 
mon to undervalue the literary work of the South during 
the period under consideration. Though literature was 
not generally encouraged, there were nevertheless two liter- 
ary centres which exerted a notable influence upon Southern 
letters. The first was Richmond, the home of Poe during 
his earlier years, and of the Southern Literary Messenger, 
in its day the most influential magazine south of the Poto- 
mac. It was founded, as set forth in its first issue, to encour- 
age literature in Virginia and the other States of the South ; 
and during its career of twenty-eight years it stimulated 
literary production in a remarkable degree. Among its 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 



137 



contributors we find Simms, Hayne, Timrod, Cooke, John 
R. Thompson, and others — a galaxy of the best-known names 
in Southern literature before the Civil War. 

219. John Esten Cooke. — The principal novelist of Vir- 
ginia is undoubtedly John Esten Cooke. He has been 
called an inveterate 
bookmaker ; and the 
list of his writings, 
including biography, 
history, and fiction, 
exceeds a score of 
volumes. His first 
novel, ''Leather 
Stocking and Silk," a 
story of the valley of 
Virginia, was issued 
by the Harpers in 
1854. Not long after- 
wards appeared '' The 
Virginia Comedians," 
regarded by many as 

his best work. It is a ^''^'' ^^''^"^ ^^^^^ 

historic novel, introducing us to the life and manners of 
Virginia just before the Revolution. 

220. Utilizing War Experiences. — During four vears 
of service in the Confederate army he distinguished him- 
self for fidelity and courage. After the surrender of Lee, 
he returned to literature, and turned to good account the 
treasures of his own experience. " I amuse myself," he 
said in one of his prologues, '' by recalling the old times 
when the Grays and Blues were opposed to each other." 
'' Surrey of Eagle's Nest," giving the memories of a staff 




138 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



officer serving in Virginia, is regarded as autobiographical. 
He wrote also a '' Life of General Robert E. Lee," and a 
" History of Virginia," in the American Commonwealth 
series. 

221. '^ Boston of the South." — The other principal lit- 
erary centre of the South was Charleston. It has often 
been called the Boston of the South. '' Legare's wit and 
scholarship," to use the words of Mrs. Margaret J. Pres- 
ton, '' brightened its social circle ; Calhoun's deep shadow 

loomed over it from his 
plantation at Fort Hill; 
Gilmore Simms's genial 
culture broadened its 
sympathies. The latter 
was the Maecenas to a 
band of brilliant youths 
who used to meet for 
literary suppers at his 
beautiful home." Among 
these brilliant youths 
were Paul Hamilton 
Hayne and Henry Tim- 
rod, two of the best poets 
the South has produced. 
222. Simms. — William 
Gilmore Simms was a 
man of rare versatility 
of genius. He made up 
for his lack of collegiate 
training by private study and wide experience. He early 
gave up law for literature, and during his long and tire- 
less literary career was editor, poet, dramatist, historian, 




William Gilmore Simms 



FIRST XATIOXAL PERIOD 



139 



and novelist. He has been styled " the Cooper of the 
South " ; but it is hardly too much to say that in versa- 
tihty, culture, and literary productiveness he surpassed his 
great Northern contemporary. 

223. A Poet. — Simms was a poet before he became a 
novelist. Before he was twenty-five he had published three 



v.V<ii7i^.- ^ 




Home of Simms, Charleston, South Carolina 

or more volumes of verse. In 1832 his imaginative poem, 
'' Atalantis, a Story of the Sea," was brought out by the Har- 
pers, and it introduced him at once to the favorable notice 
of what P9e called the " Literati " of New York. His sub- 
sequent volumes of poetry, among which " Areytos, or Songs 
and Ballads of the South," is to be noted, were devoted chiefly 
to a description of Southern scenes and incidents. 



140 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



224. Poetic Style. — The verse of Simms is characterized 
by facile vigor rather than by fine poetic quality. The 
following lines are not without a lesson for to-day : — 

"This the true sign of ruin to a race — 

It undertakes no march, and day by day 
Drowses in camp, or, with the laggard's pace, 

Walks sentry o'er possessions that decay; 

Destined, with sensible waste, to fleet away; — 
For the first secret of continued power 

Is the continued conquest ; — all our sway 
Hath surety in the uses of the hour ; 

If that we waste, in vain walled town and lofty tower." 

225. His Novels. — Among the best of Simms's novels 
is a series devoted to the Revolution. The characters and 

incidents of that conflict in 
South Carolina are graphi- 
cally portrayed. '^ The Par- 
tisan," the first of this 
historic series, was pub- 
lished in 1835. " The 
Yemassee " is an Indian 
story, in which the char- 
acter of the red man is less 
idealized than in Cooper's 
'* Leatherstocking Tales." 
In '^ The Damsel of Darien," 
the hero is Balboa, the dis- 
coverer of the Pacific. 

226. Paul H. Hayne. — 
Paul Hamilton Hayne has 
been called " the poet laureate of the South." This proud 
distinction is due him for the range and excellence of his work, 




Paul Hamilton Hayne 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 141 

as well as for its quality. He rises highest above the com- 
monplace, and by the exquisite linish of his poetry displays 
a fine artistic genius. Other American poets have shown 
greater originality and have treated of weightier or more 
popular themes ; but it may be fairly doubted whether any 
other has had a more exquisite delicacy of touch. In fine- 
ness of poetic fibre he is akin to Tennyson. 

227. Devotion to Poetry. — The poetic impulse, to which 
he surrendered his life with rare singleness of purpiose, mani- 
fested itself early. His first volume of poems appeared in 
1855, his second in 1857, and his third in i860. These vol- 
umes reveal the spirit and workmanship of a true poet. In 
'' The Will and the Wing " he exhibits a loyal consecration 
to his art : — 

"Yet would I rather in the outward state 
Of Song's immortal temple lay me down, 
A beggar basking by that radiant gate, 

Than bend beneath the haughtiest empire's crown. 

"For sometimes, through the bars, my ravished eyes 
Have caught bright glimpses of a life divine, 
And seen a far, mysterious rapture rise 

Beyond the veil that guards the inmost shrine." 

228. Love of Nature. — Nature in all its shapes and 
moods had for him a perpetual charm. The glorious dawns 
of the Southland, the monarch of the woods, the mellowing 
fields touched by evening's glow, the songs of happy-throated 
birds, the lapse of silvery streamlets through the hills, are all 
depicted with almost matchless delicacy and truth. But it 
was not alone the outward beauty of earth and sky that ap- 
pealed to him. Like Wordsworth, he was conscious of an 
immanent Presence that imparted a deep spiritual meaning 
to the objects about him : ^ 



142 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"The universe of God is still, not dumb, 
For many voices in sweet undertone 
To reverent listeners come." 

229. War Poetry. — At the outbreak of the Civil War, 
Hayne was placed on Governor Pickens's staff; but after 
a brief term of service he was forced, by faiKng health, to 
resign. His war poetry attains a rare elevation of thought 




Hayne's Home, Copsi; Hill, Augusta, Georgia 

and diction. Without hate or vindictiveness, he celebrates 
heroes and deeds of heroism — the chivalry that '' wrought 
grandly and died smiling." 

230. Copse Hill. — The war left him in poverty. The 
bombardment of Charleston had destroyed his beautiful 
home : and the family silver and other treasures, which 
had been removed to Columbia for safe-keeping, were lost 
in Sherman's " march to the sea." His manly courage, 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 



143 



one of the dominant notes in his music, did not desert him. 
He built near Augusta, Ga., a primitive cottage, to which 
he gave the name Copse Hill, and in which the rest of his days 
were spent in brave hopefulness. He portrayed his own 
spirit when he wrote : — 

"Still smiles the brave soul, undivorced from hope ; 
And with unwavering eye and warrior mien, 
Walks in the shadow dauntless and serene, 
To test, through hostile years, the utmost scope 
Of man's endurance — constant to essay 
All heights of patience free to feet of clay." 

231. Henry Timrod. — Henry Timrod's life resembles 
that of Keats. It is a melancholy record of poverty, ill 
health, unappreciation, and 
disaster. There is a deep 
pathos in the struggles and 
premature ending of this 
gifted Hfe. He keenly felt 
the indifference with which 
his songs were received, and 
it chilled the poetic ardor 
of his soul. He was a na- 
tive of Charleston. Like 
so many other poets in 
whom the literary impulse 
has been strong, he gave 
up law for literature. In 
1849, under the nom de 
plume of " Aglaus," he be- 
gan a series of contribu- 
tions to the Southern Literary Messenger, some of which 
have not found a place in his collected writings. He con- 




Henry Timrod 



144 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

tributed, also, to Russell's Magazine, under the editorship of 
Hayne, in which some of his best productions appeared. 

232. Martial Lyrics. — In i860 a small volume of his 
poems was published in Boston. Though, in the opinion 
of Hayne, '' a better first volume of the kind seldom ap- 
peared anywhere," it attracted but little attention. The 
beginning of the Civil War called forth some fiery lyrics 
— especially " Carolina " and " A Cry to Arms " — which 
in the excitement of the time appealed strongly to South- 
ern hearts. They are as intense in their sectional feeling 
as the antislavery lyrics of Whittier and Lowell. '' Eth- 
nogenesis " celebrates the birth of the Southern Confed- 
eracy ; but happily for our country the glowing prophe- 
cies of the poem were not fulfilled. 

233. An Editor. — In 1864 he became assistant editor 
of the South Carolinian at Columbia. During a brief period 
of prosperity he ventured upon his long-deferred marriage 
to Miss Kate Goodwin — the " Katie " of his song. But 
a year later, in the path of Sherman's victorious march, his 
paper was destroyed and he himself became a fugitive. In 
his great need it became necessary at times to exchange 
necessary household articles for bread. He died in 1867 and 
was buried in Columbia, where a small shaft now marks his 
grave. 

234. Poetic Quality. — A posthumous edition of Tim- 
rod's poems was published in 1873 with a beautiful memoir 
by Hayne. A memorial edition was issued in 1899. An 
examination of the poems shows that they are of limited 
range and, in the main, slight in subject. But they are dis- 
tinguished by simplicity, elegance, and sanity. Timrod is 
lacking in the finest lyrical flights, but he is constantly true. 
He is always noble in thought and sentiment. His concep- 



FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 



145 



tion of the poetic office, as reflected in '' A Vision of Poetry," 
was exalted ; the poet was to his mind a prophet. The poet 
'' spheres worlds in himself " ; and then, '' like some noble 
host," — 

"He spreads the riches of his soul, and bids 

Partake who will. Age has its saws of truth, 
And love is for the maiden's drooping lids, 

And words of passion for the earnest youth ; 
Wisdom for all ; and when it seeks relief, 
Tears, and their solace for the heart of grief." 

235. His Sonnets. — Some of Timrod's deepest notes 
are sounded in his sonnets. '' Brief as the sonnet is," he 
said, " the whole power of the poet has sometimes been exem- 
plified within its narrow bounds as completely as within the 
compass of an epic." He laments, for example, that '' most 
men know love as but a part of life " : — 

"Ah me ! why may not love and life be one? 
Why walk we thus alone, when by our side. 
Love, like a visible God, might be our guide? 
How would the marts grow noble ! and the street, 
Worn like a dungeon-floor by weary feet, 
Seem then a golden court-way of the sun ! " 

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

Consult the general bibliography. The biographical and critical 
studies of the major writers will each be followed by a special 
reference list. 

Numerous selections from the minor writers of this period will 
be found in Stedman and Hutchinson, Duyckinck, and the Library 
of Southern Writers. Choice selections from the minor poets 
will be found in Stedman's "American Anthology." Trent's 
" Southern Writers " and Painter's " Poets of the South " are 
convenient volumes of selections. 



146 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

The historical background is presented in the numerous excel- 
lent histories of the United States. In this connection Bogart's 
'^ Economic History of the United States " will be found instruc- 
tive. The speeches of Hayne, Webster, Calhoun, Douglas, Lin- 
coln, and other statesmen, as contained in '' The World's Famous 
Orations " or other similar works are specially recommended. 

The following poems, most of them well-known, are connected 
with incidents falling within the First National Period : Holmes's 
" Old Ironsides " ; Emerson's " Concord Hymn " ; Longfellow's 
" Wreck of the Hesperus" ; Whittier's '' Angels of Buena Vista " ; 
Theodore O'Hara's '' Bivouac of the Dead " ; and Whittier's 
'' Crisis " and " Ichabod." 

Interesting novels throwing hght on the life of the people in 
different parts of our country during this period : Amelia E. Barr's' 
" Remember the Alamo " (1836) ; Harriet Beecher Stowe's 
"Uncle Tom's Cabin"; Hawthorne's " BHthedale Romance"; 
James Lane Allen's "A Kentucky Cardinal" (about 1850); 
Irving Bacheller's " Eben Holden " ; Winston Churchill's " The 
Crisis" (1860-65); Moncure D. Conway's "Pine and Palm"; 
Joel Chandler Harris's "Free Joe"; Geo. W. Cable's "Dr. 
Sevier"; John Fox, Jr.'s "The Little Shepherd of Kingdom 
Come " ; F. Hopkinson Smith's " The Fortunes of Oliver Home " ; 
Edward Eggleston's " The Hoosier Schoolmaster " (1830-35) ; 
Bret Harte's " Gabriel Conroy " (about 1853) ; and Vaughan 
Kester's " The Prodigal Judge." 



WASHINGTON IRVING 



236. Our First Man of 
Letters. — To Washington 
Irving belongs the distinction 
of being the first of our 
great writers in general litera- 
ture. He was not a great 
theologian Hke Jonathan Ed- 
wards, nor a practical phi- 
losopher and moralist Hke 
Franklin, nor a statesman 
like Jefferson and Hamilton. 
He was above all a literary 
man ; and his writings be- 
long, in large measure at 
least, to the field of belles- 
lettres. In his most charac- 
teristic writings he aimed 
not so much at instruction as at entertainment. He achieved 
that finished excellence of form that at once elevates literature to 
the classic rank. He was the first American writer to gain general 
recognition abroad ; or, to use Thackeray's words, " Irving was 
the first ambassador whom the New World of letters sent to the 
Old." Our Hterature has had many '' ambassadors " since; but 
it is doubtful whether any other has ever been more cordially 
welcomed or more pleasarfitly remembered. 

237. Childhood. — Washington Irving was born in the city of 
New York, April 3, 1783, the youngest of eleven children. The 
Revolutionary War was ended, and the American army occupied 
the city. '' Washington's work is ended," said the mother, " and 

147 




Washington Irving 



148 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

the child shall be named after him." Six years later, when Wash- 
ington had become the first President of the young republic, a 
Scotch maid-servant of the Irving family one day followed him 
into a shop. '' Please, your honor," said she, '' here's a bairn was 
named after you." With grave dignity the President laid his 
hand on the child's head, and bestowed his blessing. 

238. Education and Reading. — Not much can be said of young 
Irving's education. Like many another brilliant writer in Eng- 
Ush Hterature, he took but Httle interest in the prescribed courses 
of study. As was said of Shakespeare, he knew little Latin and 
less Greek. But it would be a mistake to suppose that his early 
years went unimproved. His literary bent asserted itself in the 
neglect of such studies as did not interest him. During his boy- 
hood he was an eager reader. Books of poetry and travel were 
quickly devoured. The creative Uterary impulse was early mani- 
fested in the composition of verses and childish plays. 

239. Storing up Materials. — Two of his brothers had been 
sent to Columbia College. But his disinclination to methodical 
study deprived him of this privilege. Perhaps it was just as well ; 
for his genius was left freer to pursue its own development. At 
sixteen he entered a law office ; but from what has already been 
said, it will not appear strange that he neglected his law-books 
for works of literature. In 1798 he spent a part of his summer 
vacation in exploring with his gun the Sleepy Hollow region which 
he was afterwards to immortalize with the magic of his pen. At 
this period he showed symptoms of pulmonary weakness; and 
for several years he spent much time in outdoor exercise,^ making 
excursions along the Hudson and the Mohawk. Though he did 
not at the time turn his experience to account in a literary way, 
he was all the while, perhaps unconsciously to himself, storing up 
materials for future use. 

240. Voyage to Europe. — In 1804, it was thought that a voyage 
to Europe would be beneficial to his health. Accordingly he 
took passage for Bordeaux in a sailing-vessel. " There's a chap," 
said the captain to himself as young Irving went on board, " that 



WASHINGTON IRVING 149 

will go overboard before we get across." But the gloomy predic- 
tion was not fulfilled ; and after a voyage of six weeks — it was 
not the day of ocean greyhounds — he reached his destination 
much improved in health. 

241. In France and Italy. — He visited in succession the prin- 
cipal cities of France and Italy. He had not yet found his voca- 
tion, and his life abroad appears sufficiently aimless. He gave 
free play to his large social nature, and to the ordinary observer 
he seemed a mere pleasure-seeker. But he was accomplishing 
more than he or his friends understood. He made the acquaintance 
of many eminent persons, and his genial nature and pleasing man- 
ners made him welcome in the brilliant social circles to which he 
was introduced. He had an opportunity to study European so- 
ciety in all its phases. He added to his knowledge of English 
literature an acquaintance with the literatures of France and 
Italy. He was brought into sympathetic contact with the art 
and antiquities of Europe. He was one of the keenest observers. 
While thus storing his memory with knowledge afterwards to be 
invaluable to him, his culture was expanding into the breadth of 
cosmopolitan sympathies. 

242. Genial Spirit. — He met the inconveniences and discom- 
forts inseparable from travel in those days with a truly philo- 
sophic spirit. " When I cannot get a dinner to suit my taste," 
he said, " I endeavor to get a taste to suit my dinner." He was no 
chronic grumbler. He made it a habit all through life to look 
on the pleasant side of things. " I endeavor," he said, " to be 
pleased with everything about me, and with the masters, mis- 
tresses, and servants of the inns, particularly when I perceive 
they have all the dispositions in the world to serve me ; as Sterne 
says, ' It is enough for heaven and ought to be enough for me.' " 

243. Romantic Disposition. — He did not carry with him in his 
travels the statesman's interest in the political condition of Europe. 
Politics were never to his taste. He preferred to wander over the 
scenes of renowned achievement, to loiter about the ruined castle, to 
lose himself among the shadowy grandeurs of the past. The pathetic 



ISO 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



constancy of Petrarch for Laura appealed to him more than the 
meteoric splendor of Napoleon. 

244. Influence of AUston. — In the course of his travels he 
met Washington AUston. The acquaintance for a time threat- 
ened to change the course of his life. AUston's enthusiasm for 
art proved contagious. The charm of the Italian landscape, the 
inestimable treasures of art in the city of the Caesars, made a 
profound impression on Irving's refined and poetic sensibilities. 

\ For a time he thought of becoming a painter. As we may clearly 
discern in his writings, he had an artistic eye for color and form. ] 
Had he adhered to this temporary purpose, it is possible that he 
might, like his friend and compatriot, have given us some admi- 
rable paintings. But it is well-nigh certain that the world would 
have been the loser ; for what pictures could compensate for the 
loss of the " Sketch-Book," " Bracebridge Hall," and the " Tales 
of a Traveller "? 

245. Law and Literature. — Irving returned to America in 
1806, and was admitted to the bar. His legal attainments were 
slender, and his interest in his profession superficial. Instead 
of throwing his heart into it, he allowed much of his time and energy 
to be absorbed in social enjoyments. At this period he first gave 
decided indication of his future career. A strong hterary instinct 
is irrepressible. In association with his brother, William, and 
James K. Paulding, he issued a semi-monthly periodical, entitled 
Salmagundi. It was an imitation of the Spectator, and aimed 
" simply to instruct the young, reform the old, correct the town, 
and castigate the age." The writers veiled themselves in mystery. 
They affected utter indifference to either praise or blame, and 
with lofty superiority criticised the manners of the town. The 
wit and humor were delightful, and from the start the paper had 
a flattering success. But after running through twenty numbers, 
it stopped in the midst of its success as suddenly as it had burst 
upon the astonished community. 

246. A Taste of Politics. — It was almost inevitable that Irving 
should be drawn into politics. With no taste for law, he found 



WASHINGTON IRVING 15 1 

it tedious waiting for clients who never came. Local politics 
seemed to present an inviting field ; but a brief experience was 
enough. He toiled '^ through the purgatory " of one election. 
He got through the first two days pretty well. Among his niew 
associates he kept on the lookout for '' whim, character, and ab- 
surdity." Then the duties of a ward politician began to pall 
upon him. Referring with characteristic humor to his unsavory 
experience, he wrote : "I shall not be able to bear the smell of 
small beer and tobacco for a month to come." 

247. Love and Constancy. — Irving early had his romance, 
and it makes the most pathetic incident in his life. He formed 
a deep attachment for Matilda Hoffman, a young lady of great 
personal charm. (His love was as ardently returned. But be- 
fore the wedding-day arrived, she fell sick and died.! He never 
entirely recovered from this loss, which seems to have tinged 
his character ever afterwards with a gentle melancholy. With 
a constancy as beautiful as it is rare, he remained faithful to his 
first love throughout life. 

248. '' Knickerbocker's History." — It was while burdened 
with a sense of his irreparable loss that he completed the work 
that was to make him famous. This was " Knickerbocker's 
History of New York." It is a humorous treatment of the tradi- 
tions and customs belonging to the period of the Dutch domina- 
tion. The personal characteristics of the phlegmatic Dutch 
governors, and the leading events in the early history of the city, 
are treated in a delightful, mock-heroic vein. The work was 
received with almost universal acclaim. It became a household 
word. After a lapse of forty years, Irving tells us that he found 
New Yorkers of Dutch descent priding themselves on being " gen- 
uine Knickerbockers." 

249. Business and Legislation. — The next five years of Irving's 
life were neither very serious nor very fruitful. Though so strongly 
drawn to literature that he was scarcely fit for anything else, he 
was afraid to adopt a literary career. He entered into a mercantile 
partnership with his brothers, in which he was required to do but 



152 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

little work. In the interests of the firm, when Congress threat- 
ened some legislation unfavorable to importing merchants, he 
made a visit to Washington. But there, as well as in Philadelphia 
and Baltimore, social pleasures occupied him more than the action 
of Congress. He steadily refused to look on the darker side of 
human nature or human life. He would not believe that wisdom 
consists in a knowledge of the wickedness of men, and confessed 
that he entertained " a most melancholy good opinion and good 
will for the great mass of my fellow-creatures." 

250. Not a Violent Partisan. — While in Washington he saw 
a good deal of the leading men of the country. Though his sym- 
pathies were with the Federalists, he was not a violent partisan. 
He was far too broad-minded to become a bigot in either religion 
or politics. He was on good terms with the leaders of both polit- 
ical parties, and laughed equally at their extravagance. " One 
day," he writes, ^' I am dining with a knot of honest, furious Fed- 
eralists, who are damning all their opponents as a set of consum- 
mate scoundrels, panders to Bonaparte, etc. The next day I 
dine, perhaps, with some of the very men I have heard thus anathe- 
matized, and find them equally honest, w^arm, and indignant; 
and, if I take their word for it, I had been dining the day before 
with some of the greatest knaves in the nation, men absolutely 
paid and suborned by the British government." 

251. Merchant and Editor. — For a time the business of his 
brothers (they were importers of hardware and cutlery) required 
his services at the store pretty constantly. The work was dis- 
tasteful to him beyond measure. " By all the martyrs of Grub 
Street," he exclaimed, " I'd sooner live in a garret, and starve 
into the bargain, than follow so sordid, dusty, and soul-killing a 
way of life, though certain it would make me as rich as old 
Croesus, or John Jacob Astor himself." He became editor of a 
periodical called Select Reviews, for which he wrote some biog- 
raphies and sketches, a few of which afterw^ards appeared in the 
^' Sketch-Book." But he soon grew tired of his position, for he 
had an invincible aversion to regular work. 



WASHINGTON IRVING 153 

252. Long Sojourn in Europe. — The year the second war with 
Great Britain closed, Irving sailed for Europe, where the next 
seventeen years of his life were spent, — years rich in experi- 
ence and literary activity. It was during this period that a 
number of his choicest works were produced. His reputation 
as the author of '' Knickerbocker " made him a welcome guest 
in literary circles. In London he dined at Murray's, where he 
met some of the notable writers of the day. He was cordially 
received at Edinburgh ; and he spent some days with Scott, of 
whose home and habits he has given so delightful a description in 
^'Abbotsford." 

253. Haunts of Isaac Walton. — As we should naturally expect, 
Irving was a great admirer of Isaac Walton. He made more 
than one visit to the haunts of the illustrious angler. On one 
occasion he wandered by the banks of the romantic Dove in com- 
pany with a " lovely girl," who pointed out to him the beauties 
of the surrounding scenery, and repeated " in the most dulcet 
voice tracts of heaven-born poetry." 

254. Finds his Vocation. — Upon the failure of the branch 
house of his brothers in Liverpool, he went to London to embark 
upon the literary career for which nature had so evidently intended 
him. He was urged by Scott to become editor of an anti- Jacobin 
periodical in Edinburgh. This he refused to do for two reasons 
already familiar to us, — his distaste for politics, and his aversion 
to regular literary work. He also declined an offer to become a 
contributor of the Lotidon Quarterly, with the liberal pay of one 
hundred guineas an article. " It has always been so hostile to 
my country," he said, " I cannot draw a pen in its service." This 
is the language of high-toned patriotism. 

255. " The Sketch-Book." — In 1819 he began the publication 
of the '' Sketch-Book." It was written in England, and sent 
over to New York, where it was issued in octavo numbers. Some 
of them were reprinted in«London without the author's consent; 
and to prevent the entire work from being pirated, Irving found 
it necessary to bring out an edition in England. After once declin- 



154 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

ing it in the polite manner for which pubKshers have become 
noted, Murray was afterwards persuaded by Scott to bring out 
the work. He purchased the copyright for two hundred pounds, 
which, with noteworthy UberaUty, he subsequently raised to four 
hundred. 

256. Intellectual Development. — In comparing the '' Sketch- 
Book " with Irving's previous work, it is impossible not tg per- 
ceive his intellectual development. He has acquired a greater 
depth of thought and feeling. His sympathies have gained in 
scope. His hand has acquired a more exquisite touch. As a 
natural result of the tribulations through which he had passed, a 
number of the sketches are tinged with sadness. In only two of 
them does he give rein to his inimitable humor; but these two, 
" Rip Van Winkle " and the " Legend of Sleepy Hollow," will 
endure as long as the beautiful region with which they are asso- 
ciated. The ^' Sketch-Book " exerted an important influence 
upon American literature. While stimulating our writers with 
the bright possibilities before them, it rendered henceforth inar- 
tistic or slovenly work intolerable. 

257. A Literary Lion. — The applause with which America 
greeted the appearance of the " Sketch-Book " was echoed by 
England. Irving became the lion of the day. There seemed to 
be " a kind of conspiracy," as some one wrote at the time, '' to 
hoist him over the heads of his contemporaries." But he was 
not elated by his success. Vanity is a vice of smaller souls. " I 
feel almost appalled by such success," he wrote to a friend, " and 
fearful that it cannot be real, or that it is not fully merited, or 
that I shall not act up to the expectations that may be formed." 

258. " Bracebridge Hall." — In 1820 Irving made a visit to 
Paris, where his reputation secured him flattering recognition. 
Here he made the acquaintance of Thomas Moore, whom he 
characterized as a '' noble-hearted, manly, spirited little fellow, 
with a mind as generous as his fancy is brilliant." A warm friend- 
ship sprang up between them. Irving found too many distrac- 
tions in Paris to do much Hterary work. An eruptive malady, 



WASHINGTON IRVING 1 55 

which appeared in his ankles and at intervals incapacitated him 
for walking, sometimes rendered literary composition difficult 
or impossible. Notwithstanding these hindrances he wrote 
" Bracebridge Hall," which was published in 1822, the year of 
his return to England. It is made up of a series of delightful 
sketches, chiefly descriptive of country life in England. He had 
traversed that country, as he tells us, '' a grown-up child, delighted 
by every object, great and small." His dehcate and genial observa- 
tion caught much of the poetry^ picturesqueness, and humor of 
English life. It shows the same exquisite workmanship that 
characterized the '' Sketch-Book " ; and some of its stories, like 
'' The Stout Gentleman," '' Annette Delarbre," and '' Dolph 
Heyleger," are models of brilliant and effective narrative. It is 
significant of Irving's growing reputation that Murray paid a 
thousand pounds for the copyright. 

259. '' Tales of a Traveller." — After a visit to Dresden, where 
he found congenial society in an English family, and a trip to 
Prague, which still kept up ^' its warrior look," we find him in 
1823 again in Paris. Its gayeties had an attraction for him. 
He worked at irregular intervals, for he was almost wholly depend- 
ent upon impulse or inspiration. When the inspiration was on 
him, he wrote very rapidly; and having once begun a book, he 
labored diligently till it was completed. The following year his 
" Tales of a Traveller " appeared, one of his most delightful books. 
Irving himself said that '' there was more of an artistic touch 
about it, though this is not a thing to be appreciated by the many." 
He sold the copyright to Murray for fifteen hundred pounds, and, 
according to Moore, might have had two thousand; but it was 
no part of his genius to drive shrewd bargains. 

260. ''Life of Columbus." — But the time had now come for 
him to open a new vein. In 1826, at the invitation of Alexander 
H. Everett, United States Minister at Madrid, he went to the 
Spanish capital for the purpose of translating a recent collection 
of documents relating to the voyages of Columbus. He found 
a rich store of materials that had never been utilized, and resolved 



156 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

to write an independent work. The result was the publication 
in 1828 of his '' Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus," 
a work of extensive research and admirable treatment. It was 
eagerly read, and Jeffrey declared that no work would ever super- 
sede it. It at once gave Irving an honorable place among his- 
torians. 

261. " Conquest of Granada." — The " Conquest of Granada," 
the most interesting, perhaps, of his Spanish works, was closely 
related to the ^' Life of Columbus." It was while pursuing his 
researches for the latter work that he became interested in the 
stirring and romantic scenes connected with the overthrow of 
the Moorish dominion in Spain. Subsequently he made a tour 
of Andalusia, and visited the towns, fortresses, and mountain- 
passes that had been the scenes of the most remarkable events 
of the war. He passed some time in the ancient palace of the 
Alhambra, the once favorite abode of the Moorish monarchs. 
With these scenes fresh in his mind, he wrote the " Conquest 
of Granada," and though he allowed himself some freedom in 
its romantic coloring (for the subject appealed strongly to his 
imagination), he remained faithful to historical fact. It is a 
graphic and thrilling narrative of romantic events. 

262. Other Works and Honors. — Of his other Spanish works 

— " The Alhambra," " Legends of the Conquest of Spain," and 
'' Mahomet and his Successors" — it is not necessary to speak. 
The subjects were all eminently congenial to his mind, and sus- 
ceptible of his peculiar felicity of treatment. They sustained, 
if they did not add to, his growing fame. Literary honors were 
bestowed upon him. In 1830 the Royal Society of Literature 
in England awarded him a gold medal; and the year following 
the University of Oxford conferred upon him the degree of LL.D., 

— a title which his modesty never permitted him to use. 

263. Secretary of Legation.^ — In 1829 Irving left Spain, and 
served for some time as Secretary of Legation at the Court of 
St. James. It was a period of great social and political unrest 
in England and France ; and, for once in his life, he took a keen 



WASHINGTON IRVING 



157 



interest in current events. He visited again many points of inter- 
est in England, and had the melancholy pleasure of seeing Scott 
in the sad eclipse of his powers. 

264. Return to America. — In 1832, after an absence of seven- 
teen years, he returned to his native land, and was accorded an 
enthusiastic welcome as its most distinguished representative 
in the world of letters. Nothing but his modest shrinking from 
publicity prevented a round of banquets in various cities. He 




Irving s iioiii:, ^unnvside 



was dehghted to note the great progress the nation had made 
during his absence. To acquaint himself more fully with its 
resources and development, he visited different parts of the coun- 
try. His " Tour on the Prairies " embodies the observations and 
experiences of a trip to the region beyond the Mississippi, still the 
haunt of the buffalo and wild Indian. 

265. Sunnyside. — With his simple and quiet tastes, Irving 
now longed for a home. Accordingly he purchased a little farm 
at a lovely spot on the Hudson, not far from the Sleepy Hollow 
he had immortahzed. The house was remodelled, and the grounds 



158 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

arranged in exquisite taste. To this charming residence he gave 
the name of Sunnyside. He received under his roof a number of 
near relatives, including a half dozen nieces, for whom he showed 
an affection as tender as it was admirable. Henceforth Sunny- 
side became to him the dearest spot on earth; he always left it 
with reluctance, and returned to it with eagerness. It was here 
that the greater part of his life was spent after his return to America. 
Few persons have been happier in their surroundings. 

266. Public Office Declined. — The ten years succeeding his 
return to America were, upon the whole, delightful to him. He 
had seen enough of the world to relish the quiet of his picturesque 
home. He was honored as the leading American writer of his 
day. But more than that, he was esteemed for his excellence 
of character. It is hardly too much to say that he was the most 
prominent private citizen of the republic. Almost any pohtical 
position to which he might have aspired was within his reach. 
But a pubUc career was not to his taste. He declined to be a 
candidate for mayor of New York — which cost perhaps no great 
struggle. But a seat in Mr. Van Buren's cabinet as Secretary of 
the Navy was likewise declined. The life of a government officer 
in Washington possessed no attractions for him, and his sensitive 
nature shrank from the personal attacks to which prominent officials 
are exposed. 

267. Literary Labors. — During the ten years under considera- 
tion, he was busy with his pen. He became a regular contrib- 
utor to the Knickerbocker Magazine at a salary of two thousand 
dollars a year. In addition to the " Tour on the Prairies " already 
mentioned, he wrote " Abbotsford " and '' Newstead Abbey " 
— admirable sketches of the homes of Scott and Byron. " Cap- 
tain Bonneville " is a story of adventure in the far West. It 
describes in a very vivid way the wild, daring, reckless life of the 
hunter, trapper, and explorer. Among the literary schemes of 
this period must be mentioned his contemplated history of the 
conquest of Mexico. It was a theme well suited to his talents, 
and his previous work on Spanish subjects fitted him for the task. 



WASHINGTON IRVING 1 59 

He had collected a large amount of material, and composed the 
first chapter ; but learning that Mr. Prescott desired to treat the 
subject, Irving magnanimously abandoned it. It was a great 
personal sacrifice. " I was dismounted from my cheval de bataille," 
he wrote years afterwards, '^ and have never been completely 
mounted since." In spite of Mr. Prescott's splendid work, we 
cannot help regretting that Irving gave up his cherished theme. 

268. Minister to Spain. — In 1842 the quiet but busy literary 
life of Irving was interrupted by his appointment as minister to 
Spain. The nomination was suggested by Webster. In the 
Senate, Clay, who was opposing nearly all of the President's 
appointments, exclaimed, " Ah, this is a nomination that every- 
body will concur in ! " The appointment was confirmed almost 
by acclamation. The appointment was a surprise to Irving; 
and, while he could not be insensible to the honor, its acceptance 
cost- him pain. It necessitated a protracted absence from his 
beloved Sunnyside. " It is hard, — very hard," he was heard 
murmuring to himself; " yet I must try to bear it." 

269. Diplomatic Career. — There is not space to follow him 
in his diplomatic career. It was a turbulent period in Spain ; but 
he discharged the somewhat difficult duties of his post, not only 
with fidelity, but also with ability. But the splendors of court 
life had lost their charm for him. From the pomp of the Spanish 
capital his heart fondly turned to his home on the Hudson. " I 
long to be once more back at dear little Sunnyside," he wrote in 
1845, '' while I have yet strength and good spirits to enjoy the 
simple pleasures of the country, and to rally a happy family group 
once more about me." He gave up his mission in 1846. 

270. " Life of Goldsmith." — The year of his return to America 
he published his " Life of Goldsmith," which is one of the most 
charming biographies ever written. There was not a little in 
common between Irving and Goldsmith. They had alike a 
tender and indulgent regard for the world ; they had felt the 
same roving disposition ; they possessed a similar mastery of 
exquisite EngHsh. *' Perhaps it is significant of a deeper unity 



l6o AMERICAN LITERATURE 

in character," to borrow a delightful touch from Charles Dudley 
Warner, " that both, at times, fancied they could please an intol- 
erant world by attempting to play the flute." Irving's treat- 
ment of Goldsmith is exquisitely sympathetic. " Mahomet and 
his Successors " appeared in 1849, ^^^ is a popular rather than a 
profound treatise. Irving's greatest work in the department of 
history was his '^ Life of Washington." The last volume was 
published in 1859, shortly before his death. It was the work of 
his ripe old age, and is a masterpiece of biography. It is clear 
in its arrangement, admirable in its proportion, impartial in its 
judgments, and finished in its style. 

271. Closing Scenes. — The closing years of his life were 
serene and happy. He held a high place in the affection of his 
countrymen. He was surrounded by the quiet domestic joys 
that he loved so well. His labors on the life of the great hero 
whose name he had received three quarters of a, century before 
were thoroughly congenial. Thus he lived on, retaining his kindly 
feeling for the world, till the death summons suddenly came, Nov. 
28, 1859. Although he had reached an age beyond the usual 
period allotted to man, the tidings of his death were received 
throughout the country with profound sorrow. But grief was 
deepest among those who had known him most intimately. His 
unpretending neighbors and the little children wept around his 
grave. 

272. Characterization. — What Irving was, has been indicated 
in some measure in the course of this sketch. He had a large, 
generous nature, the kindliness of which is everywhere apparent. 
Through his wide reading and extensive travels, he acquired a 
culture of great breadth. He was at home with the explorer on 
the prairie or with the sovereign in his court. The gentle elements 
predominated in his character; he was not inclined to make war 
upon mankind, and with savage zeal to denounce their wickedness 
and shams. He was an observer of humanity rather than a 
reformer ; and he reported what he saw with all the grace of a rich 
imagination and delicate humor. He was always loyal to truth 



WASHINGTON IRVING l6l 

and right. But in dealing with human frailty, his severest weapon 
was kindly satire. He evoked a smile at the foibles and eccentric- 
ities of men. His heart was of womanly tenderness; and for 
the sorrows and misfortunes of men he had tears of sympathy. 
The death of such a man is a loss, not only to literature, but, what 
is more, to humanity itself. 

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

Annotated selections from " The Sketch-Book^^ " Rip Van 
Winkle,'' and " The Broken Heart,'' will be found on pages 439- 

463- 

In addition the student should read '' The Legend of Sleepy 
Hollow," " Westminster Abbey," and '' Stratford-on-Avon " 
from ''The Sketch-Book " ; ''The Poor Devil Author" and 
" The Devil and Tom Walker " from " The Tales of a Travel- 
ler " ; " Dolph Heyleger " and " The Stout Gentleman " from 
"Bracebridge Hall," and " Abbotsford." "The Life of Gold- 
smith " is admirable. 

Charles Dudley Warner's " Washington Irving " (American 
Men of Letters Series) ; Pierre M. Irving's " Life and Letters of 
Washington Irving." For critical estimates consult the general 
bibliography and Poole's " Index." 



JAMES FEN I MORE COOPER 



273. A National Writer. 

— Cooper deserves the honor 
of being the most national 
of our writers. He was less 
influenced by foreign models 
and foreign subjects than 
any of his great contempo- 
raries. The works upon which 
his fame chiefly rests are 
thoroughly American. He 
was the first fully to grasp 
and treat the stores of ma- 
terials to be found in the 
natural scenery, early his- 
tory, and pioneer life of this 
Republic. He was at home 
alike on land and sea ; and in 
his narrations he spoke from 
the fulness of his own observation and experience, and gave us pic- 
tures of those early days which will grow in interest as they are 
removed farther from us by the lapse of time. He opened a new 
vein of thought. It was largely owing to this freshness of subject 
and treatment that his works attained an extraordinary popu- 
larity, not alone in this country, but also in Europe. They came 
as a revelation to the Old World, which had grown tired of well- 
worn themes. They were eagerly seized upon, and translated 
into nearly every European tongue, and even into some of the 
languages of the Orient. No other American writer has been so 
extensively read. 

162 




James Fenimore Cooper 



JAMES FEN I MORE COOPER 1 63 

274. Childhood Surroundings. — James Fenimore Cooper was 
born at Burlington, N. J., Sept. 15, 1789, the eleventh of twelve 
children. His father was of Quaker and his mother of Swedish 
descent. When he was thirteen months old, the family moved 
to Cooperstown, on the southeastern shore of Otsego Lake, in 
the central part of New York. In this picturesque region, diversi- 
fied with mountains, lakes, and woods, the childhood of Cooper 
was passed. It was at that time on the borders of civilization, 
and the little village presented a striking mixture of nationalities 
and occupations. Along with German, French, and Irish adven- 
turers were found the backwoodsman, the hunter, and the half- 
civilized Indian. The deep impression made upon young Cooper's 
mind by the wild scenery and unsettled life about him is shown 
in the fact that he located three of his novels in this region. 

275. School and College. — Cooper's education presents the 
melancholy story so often met with in the lives of literary men. 
He took but little interest in his studies. His first instruction 
was received in the academy at Cooperstown where, in spite of 
its pretentious name, the teaching was crude. He afterwards 
studied in Albany as a private pupil under an Episcopal rector. 
At the age of thirteen, Cooper entered the Freshman class at 
Yale, the youngest student but one in the college. According 
to his own confession, he played all the first year, and there is 
nothing to show that he did better afterwards. In place of dig- 
ging at his Latin and Greek, he delighted in taking long walks 
about the wooded hills and beautiful bay of New Haven. Nature 
was more to him than books, a preference that college faculties 
are generally slow to appreciate. At last in his third year he 
engaged in some mischief that led to his dismissal from the col- 
lege. This failure in his education was peculiarly unfortunate. 
His lack of a refined and scholarly taste has tolerated in his works 
a crudeness of form that largely detracts from their excellence. 

276. Naval Career. — It was now decided that Cooper should 
enter the navy. The influence of his father, who was a prom- 
inent Federalist and had been for several years a member of 



1 64 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Congress, promised a speedy advancement. He began his ap- 
prenticeship (there was no naval academy then) in the merchant 
marine, and served a year before the mast. He entered the 
navy as midshipman in January, 1808. He was stationed for 
a time on Lake Ontario, where he imbibed the impressions after- 
wards embodied in the graphic descriptions of " The Pathfinder." 
In 1809 he was transferred to the Wasp, then under the command 
of Lawrence, a hero to whom he was warmly attached. The de- 
tails of his naval career are scanty. Though it does not appear 
that he was engaged in any thrilling events, he accumulated a large 




Cooper's Home, near Otsego Lake, Cooperstown, New York 

store of incident, and acquired a technical knowledge, which were 
afterwards turned to good account in his admirable sea stories. 

277. Domestic Life. — His naval career was cut short by his 
falling in love. In January, 181 1, he married a Miss DeLancey, 
a lady of Huguenot family, and five months later he tendered 
his resignation in the navy. He made no unworthy choice, and 
his domestic life appears to have been singularly happy. With 
a sufficiently strong, not to say obstinate, will, and with high 
notions of masculine prerogative in the family, he was still largely 
controlled by the deUcate tact of his wife, who always retained a 
strong hold upon his large and tender heart. For some time after 



JAMES FENIMORE COOPER 165 

his marriage he was unsettled. He first resided in Westchester 
County, New York; then he moved to Cooperstown, where he 
spent the next three years ; afterwards he returned to Westchester 
and occupied a house that commanded a view of Long Island 
Sound. Up to this time his chief occupation had been farming; 
and he had shown no sign whatever either of an inclination or of 
an ability to write. 

278. First Novel. — His entrance upon a literary career appears 
to have been the merest accident. He was one day reading to 
his wife a novel descriptive of English society. It did not please 
him; and at last, laying it down with some impatience, he 
exclaimed: '' I believe I could write a better story myself." Chal- 
lenged to make good his boast, he at once set himself to the task. 
It did not occur to him to treat an American theme with which he 
was familiar. America had achieved her poHtical but not her 
intellectual independence of the mother country. He accordingly 
produced a novel of high life in England, which, under the title of 
'' Precaution," was published in 1820. It did not occur to him 
as an obstacle that he knew nothing about English life. The day 
of an exacting realism had not yet come, and men were still per- 
mitted to write of things that they knew nothing about. Of 
course the work was a failure ; but it came so near being a success 
that Cooper was encouraged to try his hand again. 

279. ''The Spy." — This time he chose an American subject, 
and without knowing it fell into the vocation for which his talents 
eminently fitted him. Years before, at the house of John Jay, he 
had heard the story of a Revolutionary spy that deeply impressed 
him. This story he made the basis of his novel ; and the scene 
he laid in Westchester, with which his long residence had made 
him familiar, and which had been a battle-ground for the British 
and American armies. He had but little expectation of its fa- 
vorable reception. He doubted whether his countrymen would 
read a book that treated of famihar scenes and interests. The 
result undeceived him, and fixed him in the career to which he was 
to give the rest of his fife. 



l66 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

'^ The Spy " appeared at the close of 1821, and in a short 
time met with a sale that was pronounced unprecedented in 
the annals of American literature. It was received with the 
enthusiasm that greeted the successive Waverley novels in Eng- 
land. The transatlantic verdict, which was awaited with some- 
thing of servile trepidation, confirmed the American judgment. 
'' Genius in America," said Blackwood, '' must keep to America 
to achieve any great work. Cooper has done so, and taken his 
place among the most powerful of the imaginative spirits of the 
age." " The Spy " was soon translated into several European 
languages ; and, in short, it made Cooper's reputation at home 
and abroad. 

280. " The Pioneers." — His next work was '' The Pioneers," 
which was pubHshed in 1823. The scene is laid at the author's 
early home on Otsego Lake, and describes not only the natural 
scenery, but also the types of character and modes of living with 
which he became familiar in childhood. In producing this work 
he drew less upon his imagination than upon his memory. As 
we read his life, it is not difficult to discover the originals of some 
of his leading portraits. The book was written, as he has told 
us, exclusively to please himself ; and he has dwelt upon separate 
scenes and incidents with such fondness as seriously to retard the 
story. It w^as the first of the now famous '' Leatherstocking 
Tales," though hardly the best of them. It was awaited by the 
public with impatience ; and by noon, the day of its appearance, 
no fewer than three thousand five hundred copies were sold in 
New York. 

281. A Tale of the Sea. — Before " The Pioneers " was pub- 
lished he was already at work upon a new novel, in which he 
entered an untried field. Like his first work, it sprang from the 
impulse of a moment. The author of " Waverley " had recently 
pubHshed " The Pirate," which came under discussion at a dinner- 
party in Cooper's presence. The nautical passages were greatly 
admired, and were cited as a proof that Scott, the lawyer and poet, 
could not have written it. Cooper dissented from this judgment, 



JAMES FEN I MORE COOPER 1 67 

and boldly challenged the seamanship of the work. In spite of 
the nautical knowledge it displayed, it still betrayed to his mind 
the hand of a landsman. " The result of this conversation," 
to quote his own words, '' was a sudden determination to produce 
a work which, if it had no other merit, might present truer pictures 
of the ocean and ships than any that are to be found in ' The 
Pirate.' " Returning home, with the plan of the work already 
shaping itself in his mind, he said to his wife : "I must write one 
more book — a sea-tale — to show what can be done in that way 
by a sailor." 

282. "The Pilot." — Though he was discouraged in the un- 
dertaking by his friends, Cooper wisely followed the leading of 
his genius. " The Pilot " takes high rank as a tale of the sea. 
The plot was suggested by the cruise of Paul Jones in the Ranger, 
who, without being named, occupies the foremost place in the 
story. The work appeared in 1824, and at once attained a wide 
popularity. Its descriptions of storm, battle, and shipwreck 
are exceedingly vivid. It contains the character of Long Tom 
Coffin, who, like Natty Bumppo, or Leatherstocking, may be 
regarded as a permanent contribution to literature. It was 
at once translated into French, German, and Italian, and was 
scarcely less popular in Europe than in America. 

283. " The Last of the Mohicans." — In 1826 appeared " The 
Last of the Mohicans," which occupies a high rank — some think 
the highest rank — of all Cooper's works. It belongs to the 
" Leatherstocking Tales." The interest never abates from begin- 
ning to end. " It is indeed an open question," says an admirable 
critic and biographer,^ " whether a higher art would not have 
given more breathing-places in this exciting tale, in which the mind 
is hurried without pause from sensation to sensation." It is 
needless to say that its success was instantaneous and prodigious. 
The novelty of its scenes and characters, as well as its powerful 
narrative, gave it extraordinary popularity abroad. There can 

^ Lounsbury, James Fenimore Cooper, p. 53. 



l68 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

be no doubt that he idealized the Indian character. But however 
different from the Indians of actual Hfe, the creations of Cooper 
have appealed strongly to the imaginations of men. 

284. A New York Club. — Cooper was now living in the city 
of New York, whither he had moved in 1822. The income from 
his works had placed him in easy circumstances. His literary 
reputation, unequalled by any other American, with the possible 
exception of Irving, made him a prominent figure in the social life 
of the city. He founded a club which included in its membership 
Chancellor Kent, Verplanck the editor of Shakespeare, Jarvis the 
painter, Durand the engraver, Wiley the publisher, Morse the 
inventor of the electric telegraph, Halleck and Bryant the poets. 
He was a regular attendant at the weekly meetings of the club, 
of which he was the life and soul. 

285. A Sojourn in Europe. — The year ''The Last of the 
Mohicans " was published. Cooper carried out a long cherished 
purpose to visit Europe, where he spent the next seven years. 
He served as consul at Lyons for nearly three years. He made 
a trip through Switzerland, and visited in succession Naples, 
Rome, Venice, Munich, and Dresden; but most of his time was 
spent in Paris. He was not a man to enjoy being lionized ; but 
after his presence in the French capital became known he could 
not escape from receiving a full share of attention. Scott met 
him at an evening reception, and noted in his diary: '' Cooper 
was there, so the Scotch and American lions took the field 
together." 

286. Literary Activity and Success. — But Cooper's time 
abroad was not exclusively spent in the enjoyment of natural 
scenery, art treasures, and refined society. His Hterary pro- 
ductivity continued without serious abatement. Among the 
numerous works produced during his seven years' residence abroad 
there are two that deserve particular mention. " The Prairie " 
was added to the Leatherstocking series, and '' The Red Rover " 
to his sea-tales. Both occupy a high place among his works. 
His popularity in Europe had now reached a high point. Five 



JAMES F EX I MORE COOPER 169 

editions of ** The Prairie " were arranged to appear at the same 
time, — two in Paris, one in London, one in Berlin, and one in 
Philadelphia. Outside of England he was, perhaps, read more 
extensively than Scott. " In every city of Europe that I visited," 
wrote the inventor of the electric telegraph, '' the works of Cooper 
were conspicuously placed in the windows of every bookshop. 
They are published, as soon as he produces them, in thirty-four 
different places in Europe. They have been seen by American 
travellers in the languages of Turkey and Persia, in Constantinople, 
in Egypt, at Jerusalem, at Ispahan." 

287. Patriotic Spirit. — With the year 1830 closed the happiest 
and most successful period of Cooper's literary career. After 
that date he became involved in controversies abroad and at 
home that cost him heavily in purse and in popularity. He was 
intensely American in sentiment — proud of the institutions, 
the material prosperity, and the rapidly growing power of his 
country. With prophetic foresight he confidently predicted the 
growth that has since been realized. With his honest, positive, 
and pugnacious nature, he was not a man to conceal his opinions. 
He undertook to enhghten the ignorance and to correct the mis- 
representations of his country prevalent abroad. He wrote letters, 
pamphlets, and books in defence of America. Three of his novels 
written abroad — '' The Bravo," '' The Heidenmauer," and " The 
Headsman " — were designed to exalt republican institutions, 
and to apply American principles to European conditions. The 
effect of all this can be easily imagined. The information he 
volunteered to Europe, and especially to England, was received 
ungraciously. His independent and aggressive spirit provoked 
opposition ; his works were harshly criticised, and he himself was 
subject to misrepresentation and detraction. 

288. Loss of Popularity. — In 1833 Cooper returned to America. 
After a brief sojourn in New York, he purchased his father's old 
estate at Cooperstown, and made that place his residence for 
the rest of his life. His childhood recollections were dear to him ; 
and in the midst of the lovely scenery about Otsego Lake he found 



lyo AMERICAN LITERATURE 

a grateful repose for the prosecution of his Hterary work. But his 
life was not destined to flow on undisturbed. His long residence 
abroad, in contact with the repose and culture of the Old World, 
had wrought greater changes in him than he was conscious of. 
He no longer found himself in sympathy with the eager, bustling, 
restless life of America. He failed to appreciate the sublimity of 
the conflict which was rapidly subduing a magnificent continent. 
Without prudence in concealing his sentiments, he proceeded to 
tell his countrymen what he thought of them. Their restless 
energy he characterized as sordid greed for gold. He found fault 
with what he considered their lack of taste, their coarseness of 
manners, and their provincial narrowness. With inconsiderate 
valor he rushed into newspaper controversies. In short, while 
cherishing a deep affection for his country, he exhausted almost 
every means for achieving a widespread unpopularity. It speedily 
came; and no other American writer was ever so generally and 
so venomously assailed. 

289. Suits for Libel. — But meekness was no part of Cooper's 
character. He was unwilling to rest under reckless and mali- 
cious misrepresentation. Accordingly he instituted many suits 
for libel against prominent papers in New York, including the 
Albany Evening Journal, edited by Thurlow Weed, and The 
Tribune, edited by Horace Greeley. With the aid of his nephew, 
who was a lawyer, Cooper conducted the prosecutions himself 
with relentless energy, and showed himself as effective in an oral 
address before a jury as in his writings before the public. It is 
remarkable that in every instance in which he pleaded his own cause 
he got a verdict awarding him damages. 

290. History of the Navy. — In 1839 he published his "His- 
tory of the United States Navy." It was a subject in which he 
had long been interested, and for which he possessed special 
fitness. Apart from his naval experience and his skill as a narrator, 
he possessed the sterhng integrity of character that rendered him 
painstaking and impartial. For the period it covers, the history 
is not likely to be superseded. But it was impossible that such a 



JAMES FEN I MORE COOPER 1 71 

work should please everybody. It gave offence in England by 
setting forth too prominently her numerous defeats upon the sea. 
It was accordingly attacked with great vigor in some of the lead- 
ing British reviews. In this country its judicial tone failed to 
satisfy the partisans of some of our naval heroes. The newspapers 
were generally unfriendly, and the work was criticised with great 
injustice. But mahcious misrepresentation Cooper answered, 
as usual, with a suit for libel, in which he was almost invariably 
successful. At last he fairly became a terror to editors — a class 
not easily frightened. 

291. The Leatherstocking Series. — The period between 1840 
and 1850 was one of great literary activity. The motives in- 
spiring this activity were not such, in part at least, as to promise 
the best results for art. Cooper had lost in speculation, and 
found it necessary to increase his resources. He had a good 
many things to say to the American public in his character as 
censor. The didactic element became more prominent in his 
works. As a result, most of the seventeen novels produced in 
the decade referred to add but little to his fame. To this state- 
ment, however, there are several noteworthy exceptions. In 
1840 appeared " The Pathfinder," and the following year '' The 
Deerslayer," — two works that rank with the best of his produc- 
tions. '* The Deerslayer " completed the Leatherstocking series. 
Following the life of Natty Bumppo, and not the order of their 
composition, this series is as follows : '' The Deerslayer," in which 
Leatherstocking appears in his youth ; "' The Last of the Mohi- 
cans " and " The Pathfinder," in which we see him in the maturity 
of his powers; " The Pioneers " and '' The Prairie," in which are 
portrayed his old age and death. Cooper counted these works as 
his best. " If anything from the pen of the writer of these ro- 
mances," he said in his old age, " is at all to outlive himself, it is 
unquestionably the series of the ' Leatherstocking Tales.' To say 
this is not to predict a very lasting reputation for the series itself, 
but simply to express the belief that it will outlast any or all of 
the works from the same hand." Among the other works of this 



172 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

period, which can only be named, are '^ The Two Admirals," 
" Wing-and-Wing," '' Wyandotte," '' Afloat and Ashore," '' The 
Redskins," and '' The Ways of the Hour." 

292. Last Years. — The closing years of Cooper's life were 
comparatively serene. The storm of criticism and detraction, 
against which he had long contended, had in large measure abated. 
He was growing again in favor with his countrymen; and his 
own feelings, as opposition relaxed, subsided into a calmer and 
kindlier mood. At last disease laid its wasting hand upon his 
strong frame. It turned into an incurable dropsy. When the 
physician told him there was no longer any hope, he received the 
announcement with the manly courage that had characterized 
him all through life. He gave up the literary projects he was 
fondly cherishing, and spent his last days in the cheerful resigna- 
tion of Christian faith. The end came Sept. 14, 1851, on the eve 
of his sixty-second birthday. 

293. Personal Character. — There is no more heroic character 
in the history of our literature. Cooper was cast in a large and 
rugged mould. He had deep convictions and a strong will ; and 
hence he was often impatient of opposition, obstinate in his opin- 
ions, and brusque in his manners. He never acquired, and per- 
haps never cared to acquire, a polished deference to the views of 
others. He did not usually make a favorable impression on first 
acquaintance. But these defects were only on the surface. He 
was frank, honest, fearless, large-hearted ; and among those who 
knew him best, he inspired a deep and loyal affection. He could 
not be tempted to sacrifice principle, to scheme for reputation, 
to stoop to anything mean and low. 

294. The American Scott. — Cooper has often been called 
" The American Scott " ; and the title, though displeasing to 
him, is not wholly undeserved. He has described the scenery 
and manners of his native country with a passion and power 
scarcely inferior to what is found in the romances of the great 
Scotchman. He has thrown over the pioneer life of America 
something of the same glamour with which " the Wizard of the 



JAMES FEN I MORE COOPER 1 73 

North " has invested the mediaeval hfe of Europe. There are 
points of striking resemblance in the characters of these two great 
writers. They belonged to the same type of strong manhood. 
They were alike chivalrous and patriotic. With abounding 
physical strength, they rejoiced in the companionship of the woods 
and mountains. Their hearts were open to the charms of natural 
scenery. They were both, to borrow a term from mental science, 
objective rather than subjective in their habits of thought ; and thus 
it happens that instead of profound psychological studies they 
have given us glowing descriptions and thrilHng narratives. 

295. Literary Shortcomings. — Cooper's works do not exhibit 
a high degree of literary art. His novels, like those of Scott, 
are characterized by largeness rather than by delicacy. He 
painted on a large canvas with a heavy brush. He worked with 
great rapidity ; and as a natural consequence we miss all refine- 
ment of style. He is often slovenly, and sometimes incorrect. 
The conversations, which he introduces freely, are seldom natural, 
often bombastic, and generally tiresome. His plots are usually 
defective. His novels are made up of narratives more or less 
closely connected, but not forming necessary parts in the devel- 
opment of a dramatic story. With some notable exceptions, his 
characters are rather wooden, and move very much like automa- 
tons. They are continually doing things without any apparent 
or sufficient reason. His women belong to the type which is made 
up, to use his own phrase, " of rehgion and female decorum." 
They are insipid, helpless, vague — so limited by a narrow and 
conventional decorum as to be wholly uninteresting. They rarely 
say anything or do anything that shows the true womanly spirit 
of devotion, helpfulness, and self-sacrifice. 

296. Graphic Description. — These are faults that are palpable 
and acknowledged. What, then, are the excellences which, 
triumphing over these serious drawbacks, still render Cooper 
one of the most popular of authors? First, he had the power of 
graphic description. Without catching the spiritual significance 
of nature, he yet presented its various forms with extraordinary 



174 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

vividness. " If Cooper," said Balzac, " had succeeded in the 
painting of character to the same extent that he did in the painting 
of the phenomena of nature, he would have uttered the last word 
of our art." 

297. Vivid Narration. — But above this and above every other 
quahty is Cooper's power as a narrator. It is here that his genius 
manifests itself in its full power. His best novels are made up 
of a succession of interesting or exciting events, which he narrates 
with supreme art. We realize every detail, and often follow the 
story with breathless interest. Cooper is an author, not for hterary 
critics, but for general readers. In the words of Bryant, " he 
wrote for mankind at large ; hence it is that he has earned a fame 
wider than any author of modern times. The creations of his 
genius shall survive through centuries to come, and perish only 
with our language." 

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

A brief annotated selection, " Escape from a Panther,^' is given 
on pages 464-471. 

The student should read " The Pilot " and " The Last of the 
Mohicans," to which may be added " The Spy," " The Deer- 
slayer," and '' The Pioneers." 

T. R. Lounsbury's " James Fenimore Cooper " (American 
Men of Letters Series) ; J. G. Wilson's " Bryant and his Friends." 
For critical estimates see the general bibHography and Poole's 
" Index." Also W. C. Bryant's " Discourse on Cooper," and 
Mark Twain's " Fenimore Cooper's Literary Offences " in " How 
to Tell a Story " — a fine bit of humorously exaggerated criti- 
cism. 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 



298. Genius and Charac- 
ter. — Great genius is not 
always associated with ex- 
alted character. There is 
much in the life of Pope, 
of Burns, and of Byron 
that we cannot approve of. 
So far as their works re- 
flect their moral obliqui- 
ties, we are forced to make 
abatements in our praise. 
It is greatly to the credit 
of American Literature that 
its leading representatives 
have been men of excellent 
character. Dissolute genius 
has not flourished on our 




William Cullen Bryant 



soil. At the funeral of Bryant, it was truthfully said, '' It is the 
glory of this man that his character outshone even his great talent 
and his large fame." In a poem '' To Bryant on his Birthdav," 
Whittier beautifully said : — 

"We praise not now the poet's art, 
The rounded beauty of his song ; 
Who weighs him from his life apart 
Must do his nobler nature wrong." 

299. Moral Element in Literature. — The moral element in 
hterature is of the highest importance. It is a French maxim 
often disregarded in France as elsewhere, that '' Nothing is beau- 

^7S 



176 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

tiful but truth." ^ It is certain that only truth is enduring. What- 
ever is false is sure, sooner or later, to pass away. Bryant gave 
beautiful expression to the same idea in the oft-quoted lines from 
his poem, " The Battle-Field " : — 

''Truth crushed to earth, shall rise again; 

Th' eternal years of God are hers; 

But Error, wounded, writhes with pain. 

And dies among his worshippers." 

300. Truth in his Work. — This truth is often forgotten or 
neglected by our men of letters. Whatever is false in any way, 
whether in fact, principle, sentiment, taste, cannot be permanent. 
This is the secret of the wrecks that strew the fields of Hterature. 
The enduring works of Hterature — those that men are unwilling 
to let die — are helpful to humanity. No art, however exquisite, 
can win lasting currency for error. Judged by this principle, 
the works of Bryant are enduring. They are not only admi- 
rable in Hterary art, but they are true in thought, sentiment, and 
taste. It may be said of him, as was said of James Thomson, 
his works contain — 

"No line which, dying, he could wish to blot." 

301. Ancestry. — WilHam CuUen Bryant was born at Cum- 
mington, Mass., Nov. 3, 1794. He came of sound Puritan stock, 
counting among his ancestors the Priscilla and John Alden im- 
mortalized by another descendant and poet. His father was a 
kind, cultured, and refined physician, who took more than ordi- 
nary interest in the training of his gifted son. In his '' Hymn to 
Death," the composition of which was interrupted by the decease 
of his father, the poet pays him a noble tribute : — 

"This faltering verse, which thou 
Shalt not, as wont, o'erlook, is all I have 
To offer at thy grave — this — and the hope 
To copy thy example, and to leave 
A name of which the wretched shall not think 

^ Rien n'est bean que le vrai. 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 177 

As of an enemy's, whom they forgive 

As all forgive the dead. Rest, therefore, thou 

Whose early guidance trained my infant steps — 

Rest, in the bosom of God, till the brief sleep 

Of death is over, and a happier life 

Shall dawn to waken thine insensible dust." 

302. Early Precocity. — Bryant was a child of extraordinary 
precocity. At the age of sixteen months he knew all the letters 
of the alphabet. In the district school he distinguished himself 
as an almost infallible speller. He was prepared for college by 
the Rev. Moses Hallock of Plainfield. Of his Greek studies 
the poet says, " I began with the Greek alphabet, passed to the 
declensions and conjugations, which I committed to memory, 
and was put into the Gospel of St. John. In two calendar months 
from the time of beginning with the powers of the Greek alphabet, 
I had read every book in the New Testament." In October, 
1 810, when "in his sixteenth year, he entered the Sophomore class 
at Williams College, where he spent only one session. Though a 
diligent student, he did not find college life, owing to its meagre 
comforts, entirely to his taste. 

303. A Youthful Satire. — Bryant showed a rhyming propensity 
at an early age. He eagerly devoured whatever poetry fell into 
his hands, and early cherished the ambition to become a poet. 
Among his early efforts w^as a political satire against Jefferson 
and his party, inspired by the Embargo Act, a measure that 
proved disastrous to many private interests in New England, and 
excited strong feeling against the President. Bryant's father 
was a prominent Federalist ; and the young poet, not unnaturally, 
became a violent partisan. In '' The Embargo," written when he 
was thirteen, he rather uncourteously demanded Jefferson's 
resignation : — 

"Go, wretch, resign the presidential chair, 
Disclose thy secret measures, foul or fair. 
Go search with curious eye for horned frogs 
'Mid the wild wastes of Louisiana bogs." 



1 78 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

This satire, which had quite a success at the time, the poet 
afterwards would have gladly forgotten; but, when he subse- 
quently became a Democratic editor, the opposing press took 
care to see that he was occasionally reminded of it. 

304. The Study of Law. — Having failed for lack of means in 
completing his college course, he decided to study law, and entered 
the office of Judge Howe at Worthington. He afterwards com- 
pleted his legal studies under William Baylies at West Bridge- 
water, His heart was never fully in the study of law, and his 
retiring disposition did not promise a very brilliant career at the 
bar. Nevertheless, while in some measure indulging his fondness 
for poetry, he gave himself with commendable diligence to Black- 
stone and Coke. In a poetical effusion of the time, he recorded 
his experience as follows : — 

*'0'er Coke's black letter, 
Trimming the lamp at eve, 'tis mine to pore. 
Well pleased to see the venerable sage 
Unlock his treasured wealth of legal lore ; 
And I that loved to trace the woods before, 
And climb the hills, a playmate of the breeze, 
Have vowed to tune the rural lay no more. 
Have bid my useless classics sleep at ease, 
And left the race of bards to scribble, starve, and freeze." 

305. Legal Career. — He was admitted to the bar in 1815, and 
began practice at Plainfield ; but, finding the outlook unpromis- 
ing, he removed at the end of a year to Great Barrington. He 
met with a fair degree of success, but was deeply chagrined to 
find that law is not always synonymous with justice. He was 
far too conscientious to be careless and neghgent; but, as we 
learn from a letter written at this period, his inclination was 
toward literature. " You ask," he writes to Mr. Baylies, his 
old teacher and friend, " whether I am pleased with my profes- 
sion. Alas, sir, the muse was my first love; and the remains 
of that passion, which is not cooled out nor chilled into extinc- 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 179 

tion, will always, I fear, cause me to look coldly on the severe 
beauties of Themis. Yet I tame myself to its labors as well as 
I can, and have endeavored to discharge with punctuality and 
attention such of the duties of my profession as I am capable of 
performing." 

306. Love of Nature. — As was to be expected, nature and 
poetry were his refuge and comfort in the midst of the uncon- 
geniahties of his profession. His love of nature was scarcely 
less strong than that of Wordsworth. His portrayal of natural 
beauty is a prominent characteristic of his poetry. '' I was 
always," he says, " from my earliest years, a delighted observer 
of external nature, — the splendors of a winter daybreak over 
the wide wastes of snow seen from our windows, the glories of 
the autumnal woods, the gloomy approaches of a thunderstorm, 
and its departure amid sunshine and rainbows, the return of 
the spring with its flowers, and the first snowfall of winter. The 
poets fostered this taste in me ; and though at that time I rarely 
heard such things spoken of, it was none the less cherished in my 
secret mind." In his poem, '' Green River," he reveals the state 
of his mind at this period, though in a manner not very compli- 
mentary to his clients and associates at the bar : — 

"Though forced to drudge for the dregs of men, 
And scrawl strange words with the barbarous pen. 
And mingle among the jostling crowd 
Where the sons of strife are subtle and loud, 
I often come to this quiet place 
To breathe the airs that ruffle thy face, 
And gaze upon thee in silent dream ; 
For in thy lonely and lovely stream 
An image of that calm life appears 
That won my heart in my greener years." 

307. " Thanatopsis." — The time had now come for a more 
general recognition of Bryant's poetic gifts. Genius is apt to 
be recognized sooner or later. In 181 7 his father sent to the 



l8o AMERICAN LITERATURE 

North American Review a copy of verses which the poet had 
written in his eighteenth year and laid away in his desk. '' Ah, 
PhiUips," said the sceptical Dana to his associate editor on hear- 
ing the verses, '' you have been imposed upon. No one on this 
side of the Atlantic is capable of writing such verse." The poem 
in question was '' Thanatopsis," the finest poem that had yet 
been produced in America, and one of the most remarkable pieces 
ever written at so early an age. " There was no mistaking the 
quality of these verses," says a biographer. " The stamp of genius 
was upon every line. No such verses had been made in America 
before. They soon found their way into the school-books of the 
country. They were quoted from the pulpit and upon the hust- 
ings. Their gifted author had a national fame before he had a 
vote, and in due time ' Thanatopsis ' took the place which it still 
retains among the masterpieces of English didactic poetry." 

308. '' To a Waterfowl." — Another of Bryant's most exquisite 
poems belongs to this period. As he was. on his way to Plain- 
field in December, 1815, to see what inducements it offered for 
the practice of his profession, he watched a solitary bird pursu- 
ing its course southward through the roseate evening sky. He 
was deeply impressed both by the beauty of the scene and by the 
lesson it brought to him in an uncertainty and discouragement. 
That night he wrote " To a Waterfowl," which some persons have 
thought the gem of all his works : — 

*' Whither, 'midst falling dew, 
While glow the heavens with the last steps of day. 
Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue 

Thy solitary way ? 

There is a Power whose care 
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, — 
The desert and illimitable air, — 

Lone wandering, but not lost. 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT l8i 

He who, from zone to zone, 
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, 
In the long way that I must tread alone, 

Will lead my steps aright." 

309. New Source of Inspiration. — At Great Barrington, 
Bryant met Miss Frances Fairchild, whose native goodness, 
frank and affectionate disposition, and excellent understanding, 
captivated his heart. Of course she became the inspiration of 
a good many poems, only one of which, however, the poet has 
cared to preserve : — 

''Oh, fairest of the rural maids ! 
Thy birth was in the forest shades ; 
Green boughs, and glimpses of the sky. 
Were all that met thine infant eye." 

310. Wedded Happiness. — They were married in 182 1, and 
for nearly half a century she was " the good angel of his life." 
The union was a singularly happy one. The poet's tender at- 
tachment is exhibited in several admirable poems. In '' The 
Future Life " he asks the question so natural to deathless love : — 

"How shall I know thee in the sphere which keeps 
The disembodied spirits of the dead. 
When all of thee that time could wither sleeps 
And perishes among the dust we tread?" 

In " The Life that Is " the poet celebrates the recovery of his 
wife from a serious illness in Italy in 1858 : — 

''Twice wert thou given me; once in thy fair prime. 
Fresh from the fields of youth, when first we met, 
And all the blossoms of that hopeful time 

Clustered and glowed where'er thy steps were set. 

" And now, in thy ripe autumn, once again 

Given back to fervent prayers and yearnings strong. 
From the drear realm of sickness and of pain. 

Where we had watched, and feared, and trembled long." 



l82 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

311. A Helpmeet. — She was indeed a helpmeet for him. " I 
never wrote a poem," he said, " that I did not repeat to her, 
and take her judgment upon it. I found its success with the 
pubHc precisely in proportion to the impression it made upon 
her. She loved my verses and judged them kindly, but did not 
like them all equally well." His poem " October, 1866," written 
upon the occasion of her death, is a threnody of great beauty. 

312. Dissatisfaction with Law. — With his growing Hterary 
reputation, Bryant's dissatisfaction with his profession increased. 
He was for several years a regular contributor to the United States 
Gazette, pubHshed in Boston, and wrote for it some of his best- 
known pieces, most notable of which is ''A Forest Hymn." A 
sonnet, which in his collected poems bears the title " Consumption," 
had a deep personal meaning. It was written of his sister, a young 
woman of rare endowments and sweet disposition, who died in 
her twenty-second year : — 

"Death should come 
Gently to one of gentle mould like thee, 
As Ught winds wandering through groves of bloom 
Detach the dehcate blossom from the tree." 

313. "The Death of the Flowers." — This sister, who had 
been the cherished companion of his childhood, is the theme of the 
well-known poem '' The Death of the Flowers." The calm, mild 
days of late autumn, the season in which she died, reminded the 
true-hearted poet of her loss : — 

"And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, 
The fair, meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side; 
In the cold, moist earth we laid her when the forests cast the leaf, 
And we wept that one so lovely should have a hfe so brief ; 
Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend of ours. 
So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers." 

314. Magazine Editor. — In 1825, through the influence of 
friends, Bryant moved to New York, gave up the practice of 
law, and fairly launched upon a literary career. He became 



WILLIAM CULLEX BRVAXT 1 83 

editor of a monthly magazine at a salary of a thousand dollars 
a year — about twice as much, he tells us, as he received from 
the practice of his profession. But the magazine did not succeed, 
and the poet passed through a period of uncertainty and depres- 
sion. As usual, he turned his experience into verse. In " The 
Journey of Life," written at this time, we find the following pa- 
thetic lines : — 

"Beneath the waning moon I walk at night, 

And muse on human life — for all apound 
Are dim uncertain shapes that cheat the sight. 

And pitfalls lurk in shade along the ground. 
And broken gleams of brightness, here and there, 
Glance through, and leave unwarmed the deathlike air." 

But amid the discouragements of this brief period he was sus- 
tained by the friendship and sympathy of Cooper, Kent, Verplanck, 
Morse, Halleck, and other congenial spirits. 

315. The Evening Post. — In 1826 Bryant became connected 
with the Evening Post, to which he gave more than half a cen- 
tury of his life. His career as a journalist is unsurpassed in the 
devotion with which he gave himself to the best interests of his 
country and of humanity. He set before himself a high ideal of 
editorial responsibihty and journalistic excellence. His example 
and influence contributed no small part to the elevation of the 
metropolitan press. Though his sympathies in the main were 
with the Democratic party, he was never a blind or unscrupulous 
partisan. Principle was always more to him than party. In 
his devotion to what he recognized as truth, he often took the 
unpopular side. He was independent and fearless. He developed 
the Evening Post into a great newspaper, which at last, after many 
laborious years, brought him an ample income. 

316. Prose Writing. — His prose was of a high order. He 
WTOte slowly and with great care. He was particular even to 
the point of fastidiousness in his diction. His style was simple, 
clear, direct, forcible. " It seems to me," he said, " that in style 



l84 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

we ought first, and above all things, to aim at clearness of ex- 
pression. An obscure style is, of course, a bad style." To a 
young man, who had asked his opinion of a piece of writing, he 
wrote : "I observe that you have used several French expres- 
sions in your letter. I think if you will study the English lan- 
guage, that you will find it capable of expressing all the ideas 
you may have. I have always found it so ; and in all I have 
written I do not recall an instance where I was tempted to use 
a foreign word but that, on searching, I have found a better one 
in my own language. Be simple, unaffected; be honest in your 
speaking and writing. Never use a long word where a short one 
will do as well. . . , The only true way to shine, even in this 
false world, is to be modest and unassuming. Falsehood may be 
a thick crust, but in the course of time Truth will find a place to 
break through. Elegance of language may not be in the power 
of us all, but simplicity and straightforwardness are." These are 
the principles to which his own prose writing is conformed. 

317. Harmless Idiosyncrasies. — As an editor and a man he 
had some little peculiarities. His violent temper he schooled 
himself to keep under perfect control. Though master of a scath- 
ing satire, he never allowed himself to be betrayed into an abuse 
of that dangerous faculty. His editorials were invariably written 
on the backs of letters and other pieces of waste paper. He used 
a quill pen, which he mended with a knife almost as old as him- 
self. Indeed, he looked upon old servants, whether animate or 
inanimate, with a childlike tenderness. It is related of him that 
he clung to an old blue cotton umbrella long after its day of useful- 
ness had passed ; and a suggestion to replace his well-worn knife 
with a new one he would have discountenanced almost as an 
impertinence. 

318. Wide Travels. — Bryant was fond of travel, which brought 
him both mental and physical recreation. He was a hard worker ; 
and from time to time, in his later years, relaxation became a 
necessity to him. Between the years 1834 and 1867 he made no 
fewer than six visits to the Old World. He not only visited the 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 185 

leading cities of Europe, but extended his travels to Egypt and 
Syria. His fame preceded him, and everywhere he was received 
with the marks of honor that were due him as a poet and a man. 
In Great Britain he met most of the illustrious authors and schol- 
ars of his day, including Wordsworth, Rogers, Moore, Hallam, 
Whewell, and Herschel. His letters to the Evening Post, descrip- 
tive of his travels abroad, were afterwards collected into a volume 
with the title " Letters of a Traveller." His fine sense of propriety 
led him to exclude from his letters all reference to the distinguished 
people he met. In 1872 he visited Cuba and Mexico, where honors 
were lavishly bestowed upon him. 

319. Public Addresses. — By reason of his distinguished posi- 
tioii in New York, Bryant was frequently called on for public 
addresses. This was especially true when the life and charac- 
ter of some eminent person were to be commemorated. He de- 
livered memorial addresses upon the artist Thomas Cole, upon 
Cooper, Irving, Halleck, and Verplanck. He was not an ora- 
tor, but he delivered his carefully prepared discourses with im- 
pressive dignity. Though his treatment was always sympathetic, 
his estimates are singularly judicious, and his commemorative 
addresses are models of their kind. 

320. Poetic Vocation. — But whatever excellence Bryant at- 
tained in other spheres, he was above all a poet. Throughout 
his long and laborious career, he remained true to the muse he 
had wooed in his youth. But he was not a prolific poet. Some- 
times his prosaic duties as a journalist left but little time for 
poetry. There are years in which he wrote little or nothing. 
Besides his lack of leisure and favorable surroundings, he was 
too conscientious a workman to be satisfied wdth anything but 
the best he was capable of. To him poetry was a serious voca- 
tion, which called for the highest exercise of mind and soul. In 
" The Poet " he says : — 

"Thou who wouldst wear the name 

Of poet 'mid thy brethren of mankind, 
And clothe in words of flame 



i86 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Thoughts that shall live within the general mind, 
Deem not the framing of a deathless lay 
The pastime of a drowsy summer day. 

" But gather all thy powers, 

And wreak them on the verse that thou dost weave. 
And in thy lonely hours, 

At silent morning or at wakeful eve, 
While the warm current tingles through thy veins, 
Set forth the burning words in fluent strains." 

321. First Volume. — In 1831 Bryant issued a small volume 
containing about eighty of his poems. His simple, honest nature 
revolted at everything like sham. He rejected what he called 
" striking novelties of expression " ; and he had no patience with 
the remote allusions or hazy diction, to which it is difficult to 
attach a definite meaning. "To me it seems," he said, " that 
one of the most important requisites for a great poet is a luminous 
style. The elements of poetry lie in natural objects, in the vicissi- 
tudes of human life, in the emotions of the human heart, and the 
relation of man to man. He who can present them in combina- 
tions and lights which at once affect the mind with a deep sense 
of their truth and beauty is the poet for his own age and the ages 
that succeed it." To these principles all his poetry is conformed. 

322. English Edition. — Bryant wished to have his poems 
published also in England; and, though unacquainted with him 
at the time, he solicited Irving's influence and aid. Irving, who 
had a genuine admiration for Bryant's poetry, interested himself 
in the enterprise, secured a publisher, and, to give the volume 
some degree of prestige, he appeared as editor, and prefixed a 
dedicatory letter addressed to Samuel Rogers. This act of dis- 
interested kindness was admirable, and called forth Bryant's 
grateful appreciation. But it subsequently led to some corre- 
spondence not entirely free from asperity. In the poem, " Song 
of Marion's Men," occur the lines, — 

"And the British foeman trembles 
When Marion's name is heard." 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 187 

323. A Misunderstanding. — These lines were objected to by 
the London publisher as reflecting upon British valor, and as 
likely, therefore, to prejudice the British public. Accordingly 
Irving judged it best to change the first line into — • 

"The foeman trembles in his camp." 

Under the circumstances there was but little room to find fault 
with this alteration. But Leggett, editor of the Plaindealer and 
intimate friend of Bryant's, denounced the change as '^ literary 
pusillanimity." This severe and unnecessary charge called forth 
letters from both Irving and Bryant ; but the ill-feeling engen- 
dered at the moment proved only a ripple on the surface of their 
profound appreciation of each other's ability and character. 

324. Distinctive Qualities. — Bryant's poetry has a quality of 
its own, as distinct and recognizable as that of Corot's paintings. 
Beyond all other verse produced in America, it has what may 
be called a classic quality. It is clear, calm, elevated, strong. 
Many of his poems, in their finished form and chastened self- 
restraint, resemble Greek statuary. His poetry is pervaded by 
a reflective, ethical tone. The objects of nature, which he dwells 
on with untiring fondness, convey to his mind some beautiful 
lesson of hope, comfort, courage. He looks, for instance, upon 
the North Star, and in its beams he beholds — 

"A beauteous type of that unchanging good, 
That bright eternal beacon, by whose ray 
The voyager of time should shape his heedful way." 

Though there are few that speak in praise of the wild, stormy 
month of March, he bids it a cordial welcome : — 

"Thou bringst the hope of those calm skies. 
And that soft time of sunny showers, 
When the wide bloom, on earth that lies, 
Seems of a brighter world than ours." 

325. Reflective, Ethical Tone. — He does not sigh at the in- 
creasing speed with which the years pass by : — 



l88 ■ AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"Then haste thee, Time, — 'tis kindness all 
That speeds thy winged feet so fast; 
The pleasures stay not till they pall, 
And all thy pains are quickly past. 

"Thou fliest and bear'st away our woes, 
And as thy shadowy train depart, 
The memory of sorrow grows 
A lighter burden on the heart." 

To those who lament the degeneracy of their time, and are 
filled with gloomy forebodings of the future, he says, — 

"Oh, no! a thousand cheerful omens give 
Hope of yet happier days whose dawn is nigh. 
He who has tamed the elements, shall not live 
The slave of his own passions ; he whose eye 
Unwinds the eternal dances of the sky. 
And in the abyss of brightness dares to span 
The sun's broad circle, rising yet more high. 
In God's magnificent works his will shall scan, 
And love and peace shall make their paradise with man." 

326. Unaffected Sincerity. — Bryant's poetry is not artificial. 
It sprang out of the depths of his soul ; it is the natural expres- 
sion of his deepest thoughts and feelings. It was inspired chiefly 
by the scenery, life, and history of his own country, — a fact that 
makes him pre-eminently an American poet. He never, by 
any chance," says Stedman, " affected passion or set himself to 
artificial song. He had the triple gift of Athene, ' self-reverence, 
self-knowledge, self-control.' He was incapable of pretending 
to raptures that he did not feel ; and this places him far above a 
host of those who, without knowing it, hunt for emotions, and 
make poetry but little better than a trade." 

327. "Iliad" and "Odyssey." — Bryant crowned his long 
literary life with a translation of the " Iliad " and the " Odys-. 
sey." The former was undertaken in 1865, when the poet was 
in his seventy-first year, and it was completed four years later. 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 



189 



His vigorous health and disciphned faculties had always enabled 
him to work with unusual regularity. He was never dependent 
on moments of happy inspiration. In translating Homer he set 
himself the task of forty lines a day. He found fault with the 
translations of Pope and Cowper, because of their lack of fidelity 
to the original. " I have sought to attain," he says, " what 
belongs to the original, — a fluent narrative style which shall 
carry the reader forward without the impediment of unexpected 
inversions and capricious phrases, and in which, if he find nothing 







Bryant's Home, Cedarmere, Roslyn, Long Island 

to stop at and admire, there will at least be nothing to divert his 
attention from the story and characters of the poem, from the 
events related and the objects described." Scarcely was the 
'' Iliad " finished when he began the '' Odyssey." It was com- 
pleted in two years. The entire translation, which was a credit 
to American talent and scholarship, met with a cordial reception. 
It satisfied the high expectations that had preceded its appearance. 
In fidehty to the original, in its admirable style and diction, and 
in its successful reproduction of the heroic spirit, it surpasses, per- 
haps, all other translations. 



igo AMERICAN LITERATURE 

328. Homes in the Country. — Besides his city residence, 
Bryant had two houses in the country, — one near the village 
of Roslyn, Long Island, commanding an extensive prospect of 
land and water; the other, the old Bryant homestead at Cum- 
mington. He was accustomed, the latter part of his life, to spend 
about one-half his time at these country homes. He took great 
interest in beautifying them, and was " aye sticking in a tree." 
At his home near Roslyn, to which he gave the name of " Cedar- 
mere," he did some of his best work. It was the abode of sim- 
plicity and taste, to which he welcomed many friends and dis- 
tinguished guests. 

329. Deep Religious Spirit. — Bryant was a deeply religious 
man ; but he attached more importance to reverence, righteous- 
ness, and charity than to any ecclesiastical creed. Though brought 
up in the Calvinistic faith, his later theological sympathies were 
with the Unitarians. " The religious man," he wrote near the 
end of his life, " finds in his relations to his Maker a support to 
his virtue which others cannot have. He acts always with a 
consciousness that he is immediately under the eyes of a Being 
who looks into his heart, and sees his inmost thoughts, and dis- 
cerns the motives which he is half unwilling to acknowledge even 
to himself. He feels that he is under the inspiration of a Being 
who is only pleased with right motives and purity of intention, 
and who is displeased with whatever is otherwise. He feels 
that the approbation of that Being is infinitely more to be valued 
than the applause of all mankind, and his displeasure more to be 
feared and more to be avoided than any disgrace which he might 
sustain from his brethren of mankind." He had a profound rever- 
ence for the character and teachings of Christ, whose sweetness 
and beneficence he exemplified in his own life with advancing 
years. 

330. End of a Long Life. — The rich, full life of Bryant con- 
tinued far beyond the allotted period of man; but the end came 
suddenly. In the latter part of May, 1878, he delivered an address 
at the unveiling of a statue to Mazzini, the Italian patriot, in 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 19 1 

Central Park. He had not been feeling well for several days, 
and exposure to the sun proved too much for his strength. On 
entering the house of a friend near the Park, he suddenly lost 
consciousness, and, falling backward, struck his head violently 
on the stone platform of the front steps. The terrific blow caused 
concussion of the brain, from which he died June 12, in the eighty- 
fourth year of his age. '' By reason of his venerable age," wrote 
Dr. J. G. Holland, " his unquestioned genius, his pure and lofty 
character, his noble achievement in letters, his great influence as 
a public journalist, and his position as a pioneer in American liter- 
ature, William Cullen Bryant had become, without a suspicion of 
the fact in his own modest thought, the principal citizen of the 
great republic. By all who knew him, and by millions who never 
saw him, he was held in the most affectionate reverence. When 
he died, therefore, and was buried from sight, he left a sense of 
personal loss in all worthy American hearts." 

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

The annotated selections, pages 472-486, include " Thanatopsis,''^ 
" To a Waterfowl,'' " A Forest Hymn,'" " To the Fringed Gen- 
tian," " The Death of the Flowers," and " The Evening Wind." 

In addition to these poems it is recommended that the student 
read " Green River," '' The Planting of the Apple-Tree," " Robert 
of Lincoln," " The Poet," " The Yellow Violet," '' Song of Marion's 
Men," and '' A Winter Piece." 

Parke Godwin's " Life of Bryant " ; John Bigelow's " William 
Cullen Bryant " (Am. Men of Letters Series) ; Wm. Bradley's 
" WilKam Cullen Bryant " (English Men of Letters Series) ; Jas. 
G. Wilson's " Bryant and His Friends." 

For critical estimates consult the general bibliography and 
Poole's "Index." Also E. C. Stedman's ''Poets of America"; 
E. P. Whipple's " Literature and Life " ; James Russell Lowell's 
"Fable for Critics." 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 



331. A Subject of Con- 
troversy. — It is difficult to 
form a just and satisfactory 
estimate of Edgar Allan Poe. 
His genius is unquestionable ; 
but it had a limited range 
and lacked a substantial 
moral basis. It is not always 
easy to get at the facts. 
Like Pope, he did not hesi- 
tate to mislead and mystify 
his readers. He has been 
the subject of much debate; 
and his numerous biographers 
are generally not exempt 
from the suspicion of a 
friendly or a hostile bias. 
The latter probably draw his character too unfavorably ; but the 
former are frequently driven to extenuation or apology. 

332. Peculiar Place in American Literature. — Poe occupies a 
peculiar place in American literature. He has been called our 
most interesting literary man. He stands alone for his intellec- 
tual brilliancy and his lamentable failure to use it wisely. No 
one can read his works intelligently without being impressed 
with his extraordinary ability. Whether poetry, criticism, or 
fiction, he shows extraordinary power in them all. But the moral 
element in life is the most important, and in this Poe was lacking. 
With him truth was not the first necessity. He allowed his judg- 
ment to be warped by friendship, and apparently sacrificed sin- 

192 




Edgar Allan Poe 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 193 

cerity to the vulgar desire of gaining popular applause. He gam- 
bled and drank liquor; and for these reasons chiefly, though the 
fact has been denied by some, he was unable for any considerable 
length of time to maintain himself in a responsible or lucrative 
position. Fortune repeatedly opened to him an inviting door; 
but he constantly and ruthlessly abused her kindness. 

333. Parentage. — Edgar Allan Poe descended from an honor- 
able ancestry. His grandfather, David Poe, was a Revolution- 
ary hero, over whose grave, as he kissed the sod, Lafayette pro- 
nounced the words, *' Id repose un ccjeur noble.'" His father, 
an impulsive and wayward youth, became enamored of an Eng- 
lish, actress, and forsook the bar for the stage. The couple were 
duly married, and acted with moderate success in the principal 
towns and cities of the country. It was during an engagement 
at Boston that the future poet was born, Jan. 19, 1809.^ Two 
years later the wandering pair were again in Richmond, where 
within a few weeks of each other they died in poverty. They 
left three children, the second of whom, the subject of this sketch, 
was kindly received into the home of Mr. John Allan, a wealthy 
merchant of the city. 

334. Unfortunate Rearing. — The early training of Poe may 
be taken as a very good example of how not to bring up children. 
The boy was remarkably pretty and precocious ; and his foster- 
parents allowed no opportunity to pass without showing him off. 
After dinner in this elegant and hospitable home, he was frequently 
placed upon the table to drink to the health of the guests, and 
to deliver short declamations, for which he had inherited a decided 
talent. He was flattered and fondled and indulged in every way. 
Is it strange that under this training he acquired a taste for strong 
drink, and became opinionated and perverse? 

335. In England. — In 181 5 Mr. Allan went to England with 
his family to spend several years, and there placed the young 

^ Different dates are given, and Baltimore is frequently mentioned as the 
place of his birth ; but the matter may be regarded as finally settled by 
Woodberry in his excellent biography of Poe. 



194 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Edgar at school in an ancient and historic town, which has since 
been swallowed up in the overflow of the great metropoUs. The 
venerable appearance and associations of the town, as may be 
learned from the autobiographic tale of '' Wilham Wilson," made 
a deep and lasting impression on the imaginative boy. 

336. School-Days in Richmond. — After five years spent in 
this English school, where he learned to read Latin and to speak 
French, he was brought back to America, and placed in a Rich- 
mond academy. Without much diligence in study, his brilliancy 
enabled him to take high rank in his classes. His skill in verse- 
making and in debate made him prominent in the school. He 
excelled in athletic exercises, especially in running and jumping; 
and it is related of him that on one occasion, stimulated perhaps 
by the aquatic feats of Byron, he swam a distance of six miles 
against a strong tide without much apparent fatigue. ' But he 
was not generally popular among his fellow-students. Conscious 
of his superior intellectual endowments (which, however, as is 
usual in such cases, were not as great as he imagined), he was dis- 
posed to live apart, and to indulge in moody revery. According 
to the testimony of one who knew him well at this time, he was 
'' self-willed, capricious, inclined to be imperious, and though of 
generous impulses, not steadily kind, or even amiable." 

337. At the University. — In 1826, at the age of seventeen, 
Poe matriculated at the University of Virginia, and entered the 
schools of ancient and modern languages. The university has 
never been noted for rigid discipline or Puritanic morals. Its 
laxity at that time in both particulars chimed in well with Poe's 
natural impulses. Though he attended his classes with a fair 
degree of regularity, he was not slow in joining the fast set that 
spent more time in drinking and gambhng than in study. Gam- 
bhng especially became a passion, and he lost heavily. His reck- 
less expenditures led Mr. Allan to visit Charlottesville for the 
purpose of inquiring into his habits. The result was not satis- 
factory; and, though his adopted son won high honors in Latin 
and French, Mr. Allan refused to allow him to return to the uni- 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 195 

versity after the close of his first session, and placed him in his own 
counting-room. 

338. Seeking his Fortune. — It is not difficult to foresee the 
next step in the drama before us. Many a genius of far greater 
self-restraint and moral earnestness has found the routine of busi- 
ness almost intolerably irksome. With high notions of his own 
ability, and with a temper rebellious to all restraint, Poe soon 
broke away from his new duties, and started out to seek his for- 
tune. He went to Boston ; and, in eager search for fame and 
money, he resorted to the unpromising expedient of publishing 
in 1827 a small volume of poems. As viewed in the light of his 
subsequent career, the volume gives here and there an intimation 
of the author's genius ; but, as was to be expected, it attracted 
but little attention, and disappointed all his ambitious hopes. 
He was soon reduced to financial straits ; and, in his pressing need, 
he enlisted, under an assumed name, in the United States army. 
He served at Fort Moultrie, and afterwards at Fortress Monroe. 
He rose to the rank of sergeant-major ; and, according to the testi- 
mony of his superiors, he was " exemplary in his deportment, 
prompt and faithful in the discharge of his duties." 

339. At West Point. — In 1829, when his heart was softened 
by the death of his wife, Mr. Allan became reconciled to Poe. 
Through his influence, young Poe secured a discharge from the 
army, and obtained an appointment as cadet at West Point. He 
entered the academy July i, 1830, and, as usual, established a repu- 
tation for brilliancy and folly. He was reserved, exclusive, dis- 
contented, and censorious. As described by a classmate, " He was 
an accomplished French scholar, and had a wonderful aptitude for 
mathematics, so that he had no difficulty in preparing his recita- 
tions in his class, and in obtaining the highest marks in these 
departments. He was a devourer of books ; but his great fault 
was his neglect of and apparent contempt for military duties. His 
wayward and capricious temper made him at times utterly oblivious 
or indifferent to the ordinary routine of roll-call, drills, and guard 
duties. These habits subjected him often to arrest and punishment, 



196 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

and effectually prevented his learning or discharging the duties of 
a soldier." The final result is obvious. At the end of six months, 
he was summoned before a court-martial, tried, and expelled. 

340. His Poetic Principle. — Before leaving West Point, Poe 
arranged for the publication of a volume of poetry, which appeared 
in New York in 1831. This volume, to which the students of 
the academy subscribed Hberally in advance, is noteworthy in 
several particulars. In a prefatory letter Poe lays down the 
poetic principle to which he endeavored to conform his produc- 
tions. It throws much light on his poetry by exhibiting the ideal 
at which he aimed. " A poem, in my opinion," he says, " is 
opposed to a work of science by having for its immediate object 
pleasure, not truth ; to romance, by having for its object an indefi- 
nite instead of a definite pleasure, being a poem only so far as this 
object is attained; romance presenting perceptible images with 
definite, poetry with ^definite sensations, to which end music is 
an essential, since the comprehension of sweet sound is our most 
indefinite conception. Music, when combined with a pleasurable 
idea, is poetry ; music without the idea is simply music ; the idea 
without the music is prose from its very definiteness." Music 
embodied in a golden mist of thought and sentiment — this is 
Poe's poetic ideal. 

341. Musical Rhythm. — As illustrative of his musical rhythm, 
the following fines from " Al Aaraaf " may be given : — 

"Ligeia! Ligeia! 

My beautiful one 
Whose harshest idea 

Will to melody run, 
O ! is it thy will 

On the breezes to toss ? 
Or, capriciously still. 

Like the lone albatross. 
Incumbent on night 

(As she on the air) 
To keep watch with delight 

On the harmony there ? " 



EDGAR ALLAN FOE 197 

Or take the last stanza of " Israfel " : — 

*'If IcoulddweU 
Where Israfel 

Hath dwelt, and he where I, 
He might not sing so w^ildly well 

A mortal melody, 
While a bolder note than this might swell 

From my lyre within the sky." 

342. Imitation. — The two principal poems in the volume under 
consideration — '' Al Aaraaf " and '' Tamerlane " — were obvious 
imitations of Moore and Byron. The beginning of " Al Aaraaf," 
for example, might easily be mistaken for an extract from " Lalla 
Rookh," so similar are the rhythm and rhyme : — 

"0! nothing earthly save the ray 
(Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty's eye, 
As in those gardens where the day 
Springs from the gems of Circassy — 
O ! nothing earthly save the thrill 
Of melody in woodland rill — 
Or (music of the passion-hearted) 
Joy's voice so peacefully departed 
That like the murmur in the shell. 
Its echo dwelleth and will dwell — 
Oh, nothing of the dross of ours — 
Yet all the beauty — all the flowers 
That list our Love, and deck our bowers — 
Adorn yon world afar, afar — 
The wandering star." 

In this poem there is a further imitation of Moore in the copious 
annotations, in which Poe tries to appear learned by the cheap 
trick of mentioning obscure names, and quoting scholarly authori- 
ties at second-hand. It indicates his singular lack of moral in- 
tegrity that he kept up this evil practice all through his literary 
career. 



igS AMERICAN LITERATURE 

343. Literary Career in Baltimore. — After his expulsion from 
West Point, Poe appears to have gone to -Richmond ; but the 
long-suffering of Mr. Allan, who had married again and was 
expecting a Hneal descendant, was at length exhausted. He 
refused to extend any further recognition to one whom he had 
too much reason to regard as unappreciative and undeserving. 
Accordingly, Poe was finally thrown upon his own resources for 
a livelihood. He settled in Baltimore, where he had a few ac- 
quaintances and friends, and entered upon that literary career 
which is without parallel in American literature for its achieve- 
ments, its vicissitudes, and its sorrows. With no qualification 
for the struggle of life other than intellectual brilliancy, he bitterly 
atoned, through disappointment and suffering, for his defects 
of temper, lack of judgment, and habits of intemperance. 

344. A Prize Story. — In 1833 the Baltimore Saturday Visitor 
offered a prize of one hundred dollars for the best prose story. 
This prize Poe won by his tale " A MS. Found in a Bottle." This 
success may be regarded as the first step in his literary career. 
The ability displayed in this fantastic tale brought him to the 
notice of John P. Kennedy, Esq., who at once befriended him in 
his distress, and aided him in his literary projects. He gave Poe, 
whom he found in extreme poverty, free access to his table, and, 
to use his own words, " brought him up from the very verge of 
despair." 

345. Southern Literary Messenger. — After a year or more of 
hack work in Baltimore, Poe, through the influence of his kindly 
patron, obtained employment on the Southern Literary Messen- 
ger, and removed to Richmond in 1835. Here he made a bril- 
liant start; life seemed to open before him full of promise. In 
a short time he was promoted to the editorship of the Messenger, 
and by his tales, poems, and especially his reviews, he made that 
periodical very popular. In a twelvemonth he increased its 
subscription list from seven hundred to nearly five thousand, 
and made the magazine a rival of the Knickerbocker and the 
New Englander. He was loudly praised by the Southern press, 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 199 

and was generally regarded as one of the foremost writers of the 
day. 

346. Slashing Criticism. — In the Messenger, Poe began his 
work as a critic. It is hardly necessary to say that his criticism 
was of the slashing kind. He became little short of a terror. 
With a great deal of critical acumen and a fine artistic sense, he 
made relentless war on pretentious mediocrity, and rendered 
good service to American letters by enforcing higher literary 
standards. He was lavish in his charges of plagiarism, even 
when stealing himself; and he made use of cheap second-hand 
learning in order to ridicule the pretended scholarship of others. 
He often affected an irritating and contemptuous superiority. 
But with all his humbug and supercihousness, his critical estimates, 
in the main, have been sustained. 

347. Prospects Blighted. — The bright prospects before Poe 
were in a few months ruthlessly blighted. Perhaps he reUed too 
much on his genius and reputation. It is easy for men of ability 
to overrate their importance. Regarding himself, perhaps, as 
indispensable to the Messenger, he may have relaxed in vigilant 
self-restraint. It has been claimed that he resigned the editor- 
ship in order to accept a more lucrative offer in New York ; but 
the sad truth seems to be that he was dismissed on account of his 
irregular habits. 

348. " Arthur Gordon Pym." — After eighteen months in Rich- 
mond, during which he had estabhshed a brilliant hterary repu- 
tation, Poe was again turned adrift. He went to New York, 
where his story of " Arthur Gordon Pym " was published by the 
Harpers in 1838. It is a tale of the sea, written with the simplicity 
of style and circumstantiality of detail that give such charm to 
the works of Defoe. In spite of the fact that Cooper and Mar- 
ryat had created a taste for sea- tales, the story of " Arthur Gordon 
Pym " never became popular. It is superabundant in horrors — 
a vein that had a fatal fascination for the morbid genius of Poe. 

349. Quarrel with Burton. — The same year in which this 
story appeared, Poe removed to Philadelphia, where he soon 



200 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

found work on The Gentleman's Magazine, recently established 
by the comedian Burton. He soon rose to the position of editor- 
in-chief, and his talents proved of great value to the magazine. 
His tales and criticism rapidly increased its circulation. But 
the actor, whose love of justice does him great credit, could not 
approve of his editor's sensational criticism. In a letter written 
when their cordial relations were interrupted for a time, Burton 
speaks very plainly and positively : "I cannot permit the maga- 
zine to be made a vehicle for that sort of severity which you 
think is so ' successful with the mob.' I am truly much less 
anxious about making a monthly ' sensation ' than I am upon 
the point of fairness. . . . You say the people love havoc. I 
think they love justice." Poe did not profit by his experience at 
Richmond, and after a few months he was dismissed for neglect of 
duty. 

350. Editor of Graham. — He was out of employment but a 
short time. In November, 1840, Graham's Magazine was estab- 
lished, and Poe appointed editor. At no other period of his 
life did his genius appear to better advantage. Thrilling stories 
and trenchant criticisms followed one another in rapid succes- 
sion. His articles on autography and cryptology attracted wide- 
spread attention. In the former he attempted to illustrate char- 
acter by the handwriting; and in the latter he maintained that 
human ingenuity cannot invent a cipher that human ingenuity 
cannot resolve. In the course of a few months the circulation 
of the magazine (if its own statements may be trusted) increased 
from eight thousand to forty thousand — a remarkable circula- 
tion for the time. 

351. A Violent Assumption. — His criticism was based on the 
rather violent assumption " that, as a literary people, we are one 
vast perambulating humbug." In most cases, hterary promi- 
nence, he asserted, was achieved " by the sole means of a blus- 
tering arrogance, or of busy wriggHng conceit, or of the most 
barefaced plagiarism, or even through the simple immensity of 
its assumptions." These fraudulent reputations he undertook, 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 20I 

" with the help of a hearty good will " (which no one will doubt), 
to " tumble down." But, in the fury of this general destruction, 
he did not allow himself to become utterly indiscriminate and 
merciless. He admitted that there were a few who rose above 
absolute '^ idiocy." '' Mr. Morris has written good songs. Mr. 
Bryant is not all fool. Mr. WilHs is not quite an ass. Mr. Long- 
fellow will steal ; but, perhaps, he cannot help it (for we have 
heard of such things), and then it must not be denied that nil 
tetigit quod non ornavity But, in spite of reckless and extravagant 
assertion, there was still too much acumen and force in his review 
to allow them to be treated with indifference or contempt. 

352. Manner of Life. — In about eighteen months Poe's con- 
nection with Graham was dissolved. The reason has not been 
made perfectly clear ; but, from what we already know, it is safe 
to charge it to Poe's infirmity of temper or of habit. His pro- 
tracted sojourn in Philadelphia was now drawing to a close. It 
had been the most richly productive, as well as the happiest, 
period of his life. For a time, sustained by appreciation and 
hope, he in a measure overcame his intemperate habits. Gris- 
wold, his much-abused biographer, has given us an interesting 
description of him and his home at this time : '' His manner, 
except during his fits of intoxication, was very quiet and gentle- 
manly; he w^as usually dressed with simphcity and elegance; 
and when once he sent for me to visit him, during a period of 
illness caused by protracted and anxious watching at the side of 
his sick wife, I was impressed by the singular neatness and the 
air of refinement in his home. It was in a small house, in one 
of the pleasant and silent neighborhoods far from the centre of 
the town ; and, though slightly and cheaply furnished, everything 
in it was so tasteful and so fitly disposed that it seemed altogether 
suitable for a man of genius." 

353. Prose Masterpieces. — It was during his residence in 
Philadelphia that Poe wrote his choicest stories. Among the 
masterpieces of this period are to be mentioned " The Fall of the 
House of Usher," " Ligeia," which he regarded as his best tale, 



202 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



" The Descent into the Maelstrom," " The Murders of the Rue 
Morgue," and ''The Mystery of Marie Roget." The general 
character of his tales may be inferred from their titles. Poe 
delighted in the weird, fantastic, dismal, horrible. There is no 
warmth of human sympathy, no moral consciousness, no lessons 




The House where "The Raven" was written 



of practical wisdom. His tales are the product of a morbid but 
powerful imagination. His style is in perfect keeping with his 
peculiar gifts. He had a highly developed artistic sense. By 
his air of perfect candor, his minuteness of detail, and his power 
of graphic description, he gains complete mastery over the soul, 
and leads us almost to believe the impossible. Within the limited 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 203 

range of his imagination (for he was by no means the universal 
genius he fancied himself to be), he is unsurpassed, perhaps, by 
any other American writer. 

354. Publication of " The Raven." — Poe's career had now 
reached its climax, and after a time began its rapid descent. In 
1844 he moved to New York, where for a year or two his life did 
not differ materially from what it had been in Philadelphia. He 
continued to write his fantastic tales, for which he was poorly 
paid, and to do editorial work, by which he eked out a scanty live- 
lihood. He was employed by N. P. Willis for a few months on the 
Evening Mirror as sub-editor and critic, and was regularly " at 
his desk from nine in the morning till the paper went to press." 
It was in this paper, Jan. 29, 1845, that his greatest poem, " The 
Raven," was published with a flattering commendation by WilHs. 
It laid hold of the popular fancy ; and, copied throughout the 
length and breadth of the land, it met a reception never before 
accorded to an American poem. Abroad its success was scarcely 
less remarkable and decisive. '' This vivid writing," wrote Mrs. 
Browning, '' this power which is felt, has produced a sensation 
here in England. Some of my friends are taken by the fear of it, 
and some by the music. I hear of persons who are haunted by the 
' Nevermore ' ; and an acquaintance of mine, who has the mis- 
fortune of possessing a bust of Pallas, cannot bear to look at it in 
the twilight." 

355. Broadway Journal. — In 1845 Poe was associated with 
the management of the Broadway Journal, which in a few months 
passed entirely into his hands. He had long desired to control 
a periodical of his own, and in Philadelphia had tried to estabUsh 
a magazine. But, however brilliant as an editor, he was not a 
man of administrative ability ; and in three months he was forced 
to suspend publication for want of means. Shortly afterwards 
he pubUshed in Godey's Lady's Book a series of critical papers 
entitled the " Literati of New York." The papers, usually brief, 
are gossipy, interesting, sensational, with an occasional lapse 
into contemptuous and exasperating severity. 



204 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

356. Choicest Poems. — In the same year he published a 
tolerably complete edition of his poems in the revised form in 
which they now appear in his works. The volume contained 
nearly all the poems upon which his poetic fame justly rests. 
Among the poems that may be regarded as embodying his highest 
poetic achievement are '' The Raven," " Lenore," '' Ulalume," 
"The Bells," ''Annabel Lee," ''The Haunted Palace," "The 
Conqueror Worm," " The City in the Sea," " Eulalie," and 
" Israfel." Rarely has so large a fame rested on so small a num- 
ber of poems, and rested so securely. His range of themes, it 
will be noticed, is very narrow. As in his tales, he dwells in a 
weird, fantastic, or desolate region — usually under the shadow 
of death. He conjures up unearthly landscapes as a setting for 
his gloomy and morbid fancies. In " The City in the Sea," for 
example, 

" There shrines and palaces and towers 
(Time-eaten towers that tremble not !) 
Resemble nothing that is ours. 
Around, by lifting winds forgot, 
Resignedly beneath the sky 
The melancholy waters lie." 

357. Poetic Elements. — He conformed his poetic efforts to 
his theory that a poem should be short. He maintained that 
the phrase " a long poem " " is simply a flat contradiction in terms." 
His strong artistic sense gave him a firm mastery over*form. He 
constantly uses alhteration, repetition, and refrain. These arti- 
fices form an essential part of " The Raven," " Lenore," and " The 
Bells." In his poems, as in his tales, Poe was less anxious to set 
forth an experience or a truth than to make an impression. His 
poetry aims at beauty in a purely artistic sense, unassociated with 
truth or morals. It is singularly vague, unsubstantial, and melodi- 
ous. Some of his poems — and precisely those in which his genius 
finds its highest expression — defy complete analysis. They 
cannot be taken apart so that each thought and sentiment stands 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 205 

out clear to the understanding. " Ulalume," for instance, remains 
obscure after the twentieth perusal — its meaning lost in a haze 
of mist and music. Yet these poems, when read in a sympathetic 
mood, never fail of their effect. They are genuine creations; 
and, as fitting expressions of certain mental states, they possess 
an indescribable charm, something like the spell of instrumental 
music. There is no mistaking his poetic genius. Though not 
the greatest, he is still the most original, of our poets, and has 
fairly earned the high esteem in which his gifts are held in America 
and Europe. 

358. Social Gifts. — During his stay in New York, Poe was 
often present in the literary gatherings of the metropolis. He 
was sometimes accompanied by his sweet, affectionate, invalid 
wife, whom in her fourteenth year he had married in Richmond. 
According to Griswold, " His conversation was at times almost 
supra-mortal in its eloquence. His voice was modulated with 
astonishing skill; and his large and variably expressive eyes 
looked repose or shot fiery tumult into theirs who listened, while 
his own face glowed, or was changeless in pallor, as his imagina- 
tion quickened his blood or drew it back frozen to his heart. His 
imagery was from the worlds which no mortals can see but with 
the vision of genius." He exercised a strong fascination over 
women. " To a sensitive and delicately nurtured woman," wrote 
Mrs. Osgood, " there was a peculiar and irresistible charm in the 
chivalric, graceful, and almost tender reverence with which he 
invariably approached all women who won his respect." His 
writings are unstained by a single immoral sentiment. 

359. Devotion and Poverty. — Toward the latter part of his 
sojourn in New York, the hand of poverty and want pressed upon 
him sorely. The failing health of his wife, to whom his tender 
devotion is beyond all praise, was a source of deep and constant 
anxiety. For a time he became an object of charity — a humilia- 
tion that was exceedingly galhng to his delicately sensitive nature. 
To a sympathetic friend, who lent her kindly aid in this time of 
need, we owe a graphic but pathetic picture of Poe's home shortly 



2o6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

before the death of his almost angeUc wife. " There was no cloth- 
ing on the bed, which was only straw, but a snow-white counter- 
pane and sheets. The weather was cold, and the sick lady had 
the dreadful chills that accompany the hectic fever of consumption. 
She lay on the straw bed, wrapped in her husband's great-coat, 
with a large tortoise-shell cat in her bosom. The wonderful cat 
seemed conscious of her great usefulness. The coat and the cat 
were the sufferer's only means of warmth, except as her husband 
held her hands, and her mother her feet." She died Jan. 30, 1847. 

360. Sorrow and Death. — After this event Poe was never 
entirely himself again. The immediate effect of his bereave- 
ment was complete physical and mental prostration, from which 
he recovered only with difficulty. His subsequent literary work 
deserves scarcely more than mere mention. His '' Eureka," 
an ambitious treatise, the immortahty of which he confidently 
predicted, was a disappointment and failure. He tried lecturing, 
but with only moderate success. His correspondence at this 
time reveals a broken, hysterical, hopeless man. In his weak- 
ness, loneliness, and sorrow, he resorted to stimulants with increas- 
ing frequency. Their terrible work was soon done. On his return 
from a visit to Richmond, he stopped in Baltimore, where he died 
from the effects of drinking, Oct. 7, 1849. 

361. A Life Tragedy. — Thus ended the tragedy of his life. 
It is as depressing as one of his own morbid, fantastic tales. His 
career leaves a painful sense of incompleteness and loss. With 
greater self-discipline, how much more he might have accomplished 
for himself and for others ! Gifted, self-willed, proud, passionate, 
with meagre moral sense, he forfeited success by his perversity 
and his vices. From his own character and experience he drew 
the unhealthy and pessimistic views to which he has given expres- 
sion in the maddening poem, " The Conqueror Worm." And 
if there were not happier and nobler lives, we might well say with 
him, as we stand by his grave : — 

*'Out — out are the lights — out all ! 
And over each quivering form, 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 207 

The curtain, a funeral pall, 

Comes down with the rush of a storm. 
And the angels, all pallid and wan, 

Uprising, unveiling afhrm, 
That the play is the tragedy, 'Man,' 

And its hero the Conqueror Worm." 



FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

The annotated selections from Poe, pages 487-500, include " The 
Raven " and " The Masque of the Red Death J ^ 

In addition the student should read " Lenore," '' To Helen," 
"Ulalume," ''The Bells," "Annabel Lee," "The Haunted 
Palace," " The Conqueror Worm," " The City in the Sea," " Eula- 
lie," and " Israfel," among his poems, and among his tales " The 
Fall of the House of Usher," " Ligeia," " The Descent into the 
Maelstrom," " The Murders of the Rue Morgue," and " The 
Mystery of Marie Roget." 

Geo. E. Woodberry's " Edgar Allan Poe " (Am. Men of Letters 
Series) ; J. H. Ingram's " Memoir of Poe " ; Wm. A. Harrison's 
" Life of Poe." 

For critical estimates, consult the general bibliography and 
Poole's " Index." E. C. Stedman's " Poets of America." 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON 



362. A Record of Thought. 

— In literature the historian 
records less of action than of 
thinking. Literature is a 
product of thought. The 
biography of many great 
writers is a story of " plain 
living and high thinking." 
This is pre-eminently true of 
Ralph Waldo Emerson. His 
outward life was uneventful. 
He filled no high civic or 
political station; he led no 
great reformatory movement 
that changed the character 
of society. His quiet, un- 
ostentatious life was devoted 
to the discovery and the proclamation of truth. As he said of 
Plato, his biography is interior. From time to time, as he felt 
called upon, he gave forth, in essays, lectures, and poems, the choice 
treasures he had carefully stored up in retirement and silence. 

363. Relative Originality. — He deserves to rank as one of 
our greatest thinkers. It should not be forgotten, however, that 
absolute originality is far less frequent than is sometimes supposed. 
As some writer has wittily said, the ancients have stolen our best 
thoughts. Other ages, no less than the present age, have had 
earnest, reflective souls. The same problems that press on us — 
nature, life, society, freedom, death, destiny — pressed on them 
for solution. In large measure the profound thinkers of the past 

208 




Ralph Waldo Emerson 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON ■ 209 

have exhausted the field of speculative philosophy. " Out of 
Plato," says Emerson, " come all things that are still written and 
debated among men of thought. Great havoc makes he among 
our originalities." Only small advances can be made now and 
then, even by the children of genius. Emerson had a deep affinity 
for the imperial thinkers of our race. He made them his intimate 
friends, and assimilated their choicest thoughts. He settled the 
matter of plagiarism very simply. '' All minds quote," he said. 
'' Old and new make the warp and woof of every moment. There 
is no thread that is not a twist of these two strands. By necessity, 
by proclivity, and by dehght, we all quote." 

364. Intuitional Gift. — Emerson was a philosopher only in 
the broad, original meaning of the word. He had but Httle power 
as a close, logical reasoner. He was incapable of building up a 
system. '^ I do not know," he says, " what arguments mean in 
reference to any expression of a thought. I delight in teUing what 
I think ; but if you ask me how I dare say so, or why it is so, I 
am the most helpless of mortal men." He belongs to that higher 
class of men whom we revere as prophets or seers. His method 
was not logic, but intuition. In the pure light of genius, he saw 
the truth that he announced. His was " the oracular soul." He 
does not argue ; he only states or reveals. He gives utterance to 
what is communicated to him, whether men will receive it or not. 

365. An Idealistic Philosopher. — There is an unbroken Hne 
of idealists and mystics running through the ages. While idealism 
and mysticism have often run into absurd extremes, they have 
fostered what is deepest and noblest in life — belief in God, in 
truth, and in immortality. The greatest representative of this 
idealistic tendency in the past was unquestionably Plato. Since 
his day there have been many others — Plotinus, Augustine, 
Eckhart, Tauler, Schelling, Coleridge — who have sought to trans- 
cend the realm of the senses, and to commune immediately with 
the Infinite. Emerson is the leading representative of this philos- 
ophy in America. It is the source of his inspiration and power; 
it contains in varied application the great message he had to 



2IO AMERICAN LITERATURE 

deliver to our superficial, commercial, money-loving country. 
His principal essays and poems rest on a mystic sense of the all- 
originating and all-pervading presence of God, — the source of 
all life, of all beauty, of all truth. 

366. His Common Sense. — Yet it must be remembered that 
he was a New Englander as well as a transcendentalist. In spite 
of his ideahsm and mysticism, he never cut entirely loose from 
common sense. If at times he came perilously near ecstatic and 
unintelligible utterance, he soon recovered his balance. His 
sturdy Puritan sense saved him. His mysticism never drove 
him out of his comfortable home into starving asceticism. It 
did not wholly paralyze his active energies. Notwithstanding 
his strivings after communion with the Over-Soul, he was not so 
lost to the commonplace obligations of Hfe as to neglect his family. 
It is true that he often grudged the time spent in attending to 
ordinary matters of business. " Do what I can," he said, '' I 
cannot keep my eyes off the clock." But, unlike many another 
mystic, he did not let go of commonplace realities; and in spite 
of his addiction to ineffable communings, he was an estimable 
and useful citizen. 

367. Ancestry and Education. — Ralph Waldo Emerson was 
of Puritan descent, and counted seven ministers in the immediate 
line of his ancestry. Born in Boston, May 25, 1803, he may 
be considered the consummate flower of a healthy and vigorous 
stock. Nature seems to have seized upon the intellectual and 
ethical qualities of his Puritan ancestors, and to have wrought 
them into the solid foundation of his character. He was fitted 
for college in the public Latin School of Boston, and entered Har- 
vard in 181 7. He took high rank in his classes, delighted in gen- 
eral reading, and exhibited a gentle and amiable disposition. In 
his senior year he took the second prize in English composition, 
and at the conclusion of his course, in 1821, delivered the class-day 
poem. 

368. Teacher and Preacher. — After his graduation, Emerson 
devoted the next five years to teaching, and met with an encourag- 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON 211 

ing degree of success. He is described by one of his pupils as 
being " very grave, quiet, and impressive in his appearance. 
There was something engaging, almost fascinating, about him; 
he was never harsh or severe, always perfectly self-controlled, 
never punished except with words, but exercised complete com- 
mand over the boys." Along with his teaching, he pursued the 
study of theology under Channing, the great Unitarian leader and 
preacher. After three years of theological study he was '' appro- 
bated to preach," though grave doubts had begun to trouble his 
mind. After spending a winter in South Carolina and Florida 
for his health, he returned to Boston, and was ordained as col- 
league of the Rev. Henry Ware, pastor of the second Unitarian 
Church. After the resignation of his colleague a few months later, 
Emerson became sole pastor, and performed his duties dihgently 
and acceptably. With a broad and liberal spirit, he took an inter- 
est in the affairs of the city, served on the School Board, acted as 
chaplain of the State Senate, and co-operated in the philanthropic 
work of other denominations. 

369. Increasing Doubt. — His sermons, both in matter and 
form, foreshadowed his lectures and essays. Their profound 
thought was clothed in simple but felicitous diction. His man- 
ner as a speaker was quiet, earnest, and impressive. His voice 
was peculiarly pleasing — '' the perfect music of spiritual utter- 
ance." A brilliant career lay before him- in the pulpit. But, as 
is usual in such cases, his doubts in regard to certain points of 
Christian doctrine and traditional ceremonies increased. At 
last he came to feel conscientious scruples against administer- 
ing the Lord's Supper. His expanding views outgrew even the 
very spacious liberahty of his church. Had he been a time server 
or a hypocrite, he would have concealed his scruples. But a 
man of transparent integrity, he frankly avowed his difficulties 
to his people ; and finding the prevailing sentiment of the con- 
gregation against his views, he resigned his office, and gradually 
withdrew from the ministry. But on neither side was there any 
bitterness of feeling; and whatever errors there may have been 



212 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

in Christian doctrine, we must recognize the presence of the charity 
that '' thinketh no evil." 

370. A Trip Abroad. — In 1833, the year following his resig- 
nation, he went to Europe for a few months, and visited Sicily, 
Italy, France, and England. He met a number of distinguished 
authors, among whom were Coleridge, De Quincey, Landor, 
Wordsworth, and Carlyle. A '' quiet night of clear, fine talk " 
was the beginning of a warm friendship between him and Carlyle. 
His idealistic tendencies naturally made him partial to Words- 
worth's poetry, which was not without influence upon his intel- 
lectual development. 

371. Reputation as Lecturer. — After his return from Europe^ 
Emerson entered upon his new career as lecturer. For half a 
century he continued to appear upon the platform as a lecturer, 
and gradually made his way to a foremost place. He exempli- 
fied the truth of what De Quincey wrote : " Whatever is too 
original will be hated at the first. It must slowly mould a pub- 
lic for itself." When Emerson began to present his idealistic 
and mystical views, he was not generally understood. His phi- 
losophy was an exotic growth. By the prosaic multitude he 
was looked upon as mildly insane. James Freeman Clarke thus 
describes the general impression made by his earlier lectures: 
*' The majority of the sensible, practical community regarded 
him as mystical, or crazy, or affected, as an imitator of Carlyle, 
as racked and revolutionary, as a fool, as one who did not him- 
self know what he meant. A small but determined minority, 
chiefly composed of young men and women, admired him and 
believed in him, took him for their guide, teacher, master. I, 
and most of my friends, belonged to this class. Without ac- 
cepting all his opinions, or indeed knowing what they were, we 
felt that he did us more good than any other writer or speaker 
among us, and chiefly in two ways, — first, by encouraging self- 
reliance ; and, secondly, by encouraging God-reliance." 

372. Matter and Manner. — Emerson was not, in the usual 
sense of the term, an eloquent speaker. He did not call to his 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON 



213 



aid the resources of intonation, gesture, and vehemence. But, 
in a spirit of earnestness and sincerity, he spoke his deepest con- 
victions; and, in spite of his unimpassioned deUvery, he was 
singularly impressive. His discourses were enveloped in an at- 
mosphere of cheerful hopefulne*ss that was especially helpful to 
the young. He believed in the ultimate triumph of truth over 




Emerson's Home in Concord, Massachusetts 



error, and inculcated a manly self-reHance and an absolute trust 
in God. 

Such a preacher (for he regarded the platform as his pulpit) 
could not fail to exert a profound influence upon many lives. 
James Russell Lowell has described for us the effect of Emer- 
son's lectures on his younger hearers : " To some of us that 
long past experience remains the most marvelous and fruitful 
we have ever had. Emerson awakened us, saved us from the 
body of this death. It is the sound of the trumpet that the young 
soul longs for, careless of what breath may fill it. Sidney heard 



214 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



it in the ballad of ' Chevy Chase,' and we in Emerson. Nor did 
it blow retreat, but called us with assurance of victory." 

373. Residence at Concord. — In 1829, a few months after be- 
coming a pastor in Boston, Emerson married Miss Ellen Louisa 
Tucker. It is to her that the poem, '' To Ellen at the South," 

is addressed. Apparently 
as delicate as the flowers 
that called to her in their 
devotion, she died of con- 
sumption in 1832. Three 
years later Emerson married 
Miss Lydia Jackson, and at 
once occupied the house at 
Concord in which he resided 
till his death. In this town 
of historic and literary as- 
sociations, " He was sur- 
rounded by men," to use 
the words of Oliver Wendell 
Holmes, " who ran to ex- 
tremes in their idiosyncra- 
sies : Alcott in speculations, 
which often led him into the 
fourth dimension of mental 
space ; Hawthorne, who 
brooded himself into a 
dream-peopled solitude; 
Thoreau, the nullifier of 
civilization, who insisted on nibbling his asparagus at the wrong 
end ; to say nothing of idolaters and echoes. He kept his balance 
among them all." He became the most distinguished citizen of 
the place ; and, as the years passed by, his home became the 
object of pious pilgrimages for his disciples and admirers. In 
1836 he composed the '' Concord Hymn," which was sung at the 
completion of the battle monument : — 




Concord Bridge and Battle Monument 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON 215 

"By the rude bridge that arched the flood, 
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, 
Here once the embattled farmers stood. 
And fired the shot heard round the world." 

374. Source and Message of "Nature." — For some years 
Emerson's studies had been in the line of idealistic and mystical 
philosophy. He gave much time to Plato ; dipped into Plotinus 
and the German mystics; read with enthusiasm the poems of 
George Herbert, and the prose writings of Cudworth, Henry 
More, Milton, Jeremy Taylor, and Coleridge. In 1836, as a 
result of these studies, he published a little volume entitled " Na- 
ture," which contained the substance of his subsequent teach- 
ings in both prose and poetry. It is based on a pure idealism, 
which teaches that matter is only a manifestation of spirit. " We 
learn that the Highest is present to the soul of man, that the 
dread universal Essence, which is not wisdom, or love, or beauty, 
or power, but all in one, and each entirely, is that for which all 
things exist, and that by which they are; that spirit creates; 
that behind nature, throughout nature, spirit is present ; that spirit 
is one, and not compound ; that spirit does not act upon us from 
without, that is, in space and time, but spiritually, or through our- 
selves." The book was variously judged, according to the insight 
or prejudices of the critics. From its very nature it could not be 
popular, and some years elapsed before it reached a sale of five 
hundred copies. 

375. The Transcendental Club. — The year " Nature " was 
published, the transcendental movement began to assume tan- 
gible form. Its representatives, drawn together by common 
sympathies and aspirations, organized themselves into a society 
for mutual aid and encouragement. This society was known 
as " The Transcendental Club," and held informal meetings 
from house to house for the discussion of philosophical questions. 
As a class the transcendentalists, among whom were Emerson, 
Alcott, Channing, George Ripley, Theodore Parker, James Free- 



2l6 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



man Clarke, Thoreau, Margaret Fuller, and others, were earnest 
in their search after truth. They were optimistic, and generally 

favorable to all sorts of 
reforms and innovations ; 
but occasionally they 
were also extravagant 
and impractical — such 
people, in short, as in 
the hard realism of to- 
day are denominated 
cranks. 

376. Transcendental- 
ism. — Transcendental- 
ism is but another name 
for idealism. It recog- 
nizes an all-pervading 
spiritual presence as the 
ultimate reality. It is 
opposed to materialism. 
It teaches that man has 
a faculty transcending 
the senses and the under- 
standing as an organ of 
truth. It believes in the 
existence of a Universal 
Reason, of which the 
human soul is an in- 
dividual manifestation 
— a divine spark. The highest knowledge is intuitional ; it is 
an inspiration of the omnipresent Spirit. All things, animate and 
inanimate, are but a manifestation of infinite Spirit, which binds 
the universe together in a sublime unity, and is the source of 
all wisdom, truth, and beauty. The material world is the image 
or symbol of the spiritual world ; all natural objects and laws are 
ideas of God. 




Emerson's Study 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON 



217 




377. The Dial. — For the dissemination of these philosophic 
principles, which now gave character to all of Emerson's thinking, 
The Dial was established. It was edited at first by Margaret Fuller, 
and afterwards by Emerson, who furnished numerous contributions 
in both prose and poetry. With its vague and often unintel- 
ligible lucubrations, it drew a 

good deal of hostile criticism. 
Emerson complained that it 
was " honored by attacks from 
almost every newspaper and 
magazine." Even Carlyle 
wrote : "I love your Dial, 
and yet it is with a kind of 
shudder. You seem to me in 
danger of dividing yourselves 
from the Fact of this present 
Universe, in w^hich alone, ugly 
as it is, can I find any anchor- 
age, and soaring away after 
Ideas, Beliefs, Revelations, 
and such like, — into perilous 
altitudes, as I think." It 
proved too ethereal a plant for this hardj common-sense world, 
and after four years it died. 

378. Brook Farm Experiment. — There was still another im- 
portant product of the transcendental movement. In 1840 Emer- 
son wrote to Carlyle : " We are all a little w^ild here with number- 
less projects of social reform. Not a reading man but has a draft 
of a new community in his waistcoat pocket. I am gently mad 
myself, and am resolv^ed to live cleanly. George Ripley is talk- 
ing up a colony of agriculturists and scholars, with whom he 
threatens to "take the field and the book. One man renounces 
the uses of animal food ; and another, coin ; and another, domestic 
hired service ; and another, the state ; and, on the whole, we have 
a commendable share of reason and hope." 



Margaret Fuller 



2l8 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

The following year Ripley's project took form in " The Brook 
Farm Association for Education and Agriculture." The object 
of the association, in the words of its originator, was '' to insure 
a more natural union between intellectual and manual labor than 
now exists; to combine the thinker and the worker, as far as 
possible in the same individual ; to guarantee the highest mental 
freedom by providing all with labor adapted to their tastes and 
talents, and securing to them the fruits of their industry." Its 
aim, in short, was to furnish a model of an ideal civilization, in 
which there would be the least possible manual toil, and the largest 
amount of intellectual and spiritual culture. Emerson, while look- 
ing on the experiment with friendly interest, held aloof from active 
participation. His profound knowledge of human nature seems to 
have inspired misgivings as to its practical workings. Yet when 
the Brook Farm Association came to an end in 1846, he pronounced 
it in its aims a noble and generous movement. 

379. First Volume of Essays. — In 1841 Emerson published 
his first volume of " Essays," containing History, Self-Reliance, 
Compensation, Spiritual Laws, Love, Friendship, Prudence, 
Heroism, The Over-Soul, Circles, Intellect, and Art. Com- 
posed under the fresh inspiration of his idealism, these essays 
are unsurpassed in depth and richness by anything he subse- 
quently wrote. Perhaps nothing more suggestive and inspiring 
has been produced in the whole range of American literature. 
But when the " Essays " appeared, New England did not breathe 
freely at such altitudes of speculation ; and various critics, failing 
to catch its fundamental philosophy, stigmatized the book as 
vague, extravagant, meaningless. 

380. Key-Note of the Series. — It is worth while to dwell for a 
moment on this work. To understand it is to master Emerson. 
The first essay, on History, sounds the key-note to the whole 
series : " There is one mind common to all individual men. Every 
man is an inlet to the same and to all of the same. He that is 
once admitted to the right of reason is made a freeman of the 
whole estate. What Plato has thought, he may think; what a 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON 219 

saint has felt, he may feel; what at any time has befallen any 
man, he can understand. Who has access to this universal mind 
is a party to all that is or can be done, for this is the only sovereign 
agent." The verses prefixed as a kind of motto or text embody 
the same idea : — 

"There is no great and no small 
To the Soul that maketh all; 
And where it cometh, all things are ; 
And it cometh everywhere." 

The following hnes, presenting the same thought in more con- 
crete form, will be found a little startling : — 

*T am owner of the sphere, 
Of the seven stars and the solar year, 
Of Caesar's hand, and Plato's brain, 
Of Lord Christ's heart, and Shakespeare's strain." 

381. Duty of Self-Reliance. — In Self-Reliance, Emerson urges 
us to be true to our own thought, to trust our own conviction, 
to shake off all spiritual bondage. No less than other men, whether 
of the present age or former ages, we are organs of the Universal 
Reason. " We lie in the lap of immense Intelligence, which makes 
us organs of its activity and receivers of its truth. When we 
discern justice, when we discern truth, we do nothing of ourselves, 
but allow a passage to its beams. If we ask whence this comes, 
if we seek to pry into the soul that causes, — all metaphysics, 
all philosophy, is at fault. Its presence or its absence is all we 
can affirm." The same thought, which lies at the basis of nearly 
all his Essays in inexhaustible richness, is fully developed in The 
Over-Soul. 

382. A Simple, Studious Life. — Emerson's life at this time 
was simple, busy, studious. He took a lively interest in his 
vegetable garden and in his Httle orchard of thirty trees. He 
had an income of about thirteen hundred dollars from invested 
funds, to which he added eight hundred dollars by his winter 
lectures. In a letter to Carlyle, dated May 10, 1838, he gives 



2 20 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

US a pleasing glimpse of his home life : " My wife Lydia is an 
incarnation of Christianity — I call her Asia — and keeps my 
philosophy from Antinomianism ; my mother, whitest, mildest, 
most conservative of ladies, whose only exception to her uni- 
versal preference for old things is her son; my boy, a piece of 
love and sunshine, well worth my watching from morning to 
night, — these, and three domestic women, who cook and sew 
and run for us, make all my household. Here I sit and read and 
write, with very little system, and, as far as regards composition, 
with the most fragmentary results; paragraphs incompressible, 
each sentence an infinitely repellent particle." 

383. Bereavement and Consolation. — But, alas ! this quiet 
abode of domestic joy was not to remain unsmitten. That idol- 
ized boy of five years — that " piece of love and sunshine " — 
was taken away. " A few weeks ago," wrote the stricken father, 
" I accounted myself a very rich man, and now the poorest of 
all." His grief blossomed in the " Threnody," one of the noblest 
elegies ever written. To his overwhelming sorrow, doubt, and 
despair, " the deep Heart " back of all things at last spoke comfort 
and cheer : — 

"Wilt thou not ope thy heart to know 
What rainbows teach, and sunsets show? 
Verdict which accumulates 
From lengthening scroll of human fates, 
Voice of earth to earth returned, 
Prayers of saints that inly burned, — 
Saying, What is excellent 
As God lives, is permanent ; 
Hearts are dust, hearts^ loves remain, 
Hearts^ love will meet thee again. ^^ 

384. Essays and Addresses. — In 1844 Emerson published a 
second volume of '' Essays " in his characteristic vein. Almost 
every year, from the time he gave up his pastoral work, added 
to the list of his notable addresses. He brought his idealism 
to bear on various questions connected with theology, educa- 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON 221 

tion, and government. In theology he drifted farther away 
from orthodox Unitarianism ; and an address dehvered before 
the senior class of Divinity College, Cambridge, in 1838, caused 
a sensation and started a controversy, in which he " had Httle 
more than the part of Patroclus when the Greeks and Trojans 
fought over his body." 

He was not a controversialist, but a seer. He deplored the 
materialistic tendency of this rapidly developing commercial age, 
and raised his warning voice. In a college address in 1841 he 
declares that the thirst for wealth " acts Uke the neighborhood of 
a gold-mine to impoverish the farm, the school, the church, the 
house, and the very body and feature of man." His face was 
turned to the future with perpetual youth, and his message always 
carried with it encouragement and hope. He sympathized with 
every reformatory movement that promised a better social condi- 
tion. He favored the abolition of slavery, and encouraged the 
movement for " woman's rights." In an address in 1855, he said : 
" The new movement is only a tide shared by the spirits of man 
and woman ; and you may proceed in the faith that whatever the 
woman's heart is prompted to desire, the man's mind is simultane- 
ously prompted to accomplish." 

385. Second Visit to England. — In 1845 Emerson made a 
second visit to England, and delivered a number of lectures to 
enthusiastic audiences. The best of these lectures he afterwards 
published under the title of '' Representative Men." It is one 
of his most interesting and valuable works, intelligible even to 
the uninitiated. In 1856 appeared his " English Traits," in which 
he embodied the shrewd observation and interesting reflections 
of his sojourn in England. He was delighted with EngHsh life, 
which, of course, he saw on the best side; but he still preserved 
his equilibrium sufficiently to smile at a foible, or point out an 
unflattering truth. Of Emerson's other prose works, '' The Con- 
duct of Life," '' Society and SoHtude," " Letters and Social Aims," 
though meriting extended notice, no more than mere mention 
can be made. 



222 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

386. Poetry. — In 1846 Emerson published his first volume of 
*' Poems," and in 1867 appeared '' May Day and Other Pieces." 
In spite of Matthew Arnold's judgment to the contrary, Emerson 
was a true poet, as well as an impressive lecturer and surpass- 
ing essayist. His poetry, no less than his prose, is pervaded by 
his ideaUstic philosophy. In his admirable poem, '' Wood-Notes," 
he thus speaks of nature : — 

"Ever fresh the broad creation, 
A divine improvisation, 
From the heart of God proceeds, 
A single will, a million deeds." 

387. A Continual Revelation. — As a product of spirit, the world 
is full of meaning. It is pervaded by a divine symbolism, which 
it is the office of the poet to read and interpret. Emerson calls 
the world " a temple, whose walls are covered with emblems, 
pictures, and commandments of the Deity." " Poetry," he says, 
" is the perpetual endeavor to express the spirit of the thing." 
Nature is to him a continual revelation ; hence he says in the 
little poem, " Good-by," — 

''And when I am stretched beneath the pines, 
Where the evening star so holy shines, 
I laugh at the lore and the pride of man, 
At the sophist schools and the learned clan ; 
For what are they all, in their high conceit, 
When man in the bush with God may meet?" 

388. The Poetic Office. — Emerson took his poetic office seri- 
ously. He considered poetry the highest vocation. " The poet," 
he says, '' is the sayer, the namer, and represents beauty. He 
is a sovereign, and stands at the centre. For the world is not 
painted or adorned, but is from the beginning beautiful; and 
God has not made some beautiful things, but Beauty is the creator 
of the universe. Therefore the poet is not any permissive poten- 
tate, but is emperor in his own right." In '' MerHn," Emerson 
says : — 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON 223 

"Thy trivial harp will never please 
Or fill my craving ear ; 
Its chords should ring as blows the breeze, 
Free, peremptory, clear. 
No jingling serenader's art, 
Nor tinkle of piano strings. 
Can make the wild blood start 
In its mystic springs." 

389. Metre-Making Argument. — Impressed with the grandeur 
of the poet's vocation, Emerson was more or less indifferent to 
the art of versification. He rose above ingenious tricks and petty 
fancies. He has been called a poet " wanting the accomphsh- 
ment of verse." He depended for success upon grandeur of 
thought, and truth of revelation. *' For it is not metres," he says, 
" but a metre-making argument, that makes a poem, — a thought 
so passionate and alive, that, like the spirit of a plant or an animal, 
it has an architecture of its own, and adorns nature with a new 
thing." Again in " Merlin," he says: — 

"Great is the art, 
Great be the manners, of the bard. 
He shall not his brain encumber 
With the coil of rhythm and number; 
But, leaving rule and pale forethought, 
He shall aye climb 
For his rhyme." 

390. A Student of Nature. — Emerson was a loving student of 
nature. He reminds us of Wordsworth in his painstaking obser- 
vation. His exquisite appreciation of natural beauty is often 
expressed in words nobly wedded to the sense. In " The Snow- 
storm," the retiring north wind — 

"Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art 
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone, 
Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work, 
The frolic architecture of the snow." 



2 24 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

And again in " Wood-Notes " : — 

"Thou canst not wave thy staff in air, 
Or dip thy paddle in the lake, 
But it carves the bow of beauty there, 
And the ripples in rhymes the oar forsake." 

391. Lessons of Wisdom. — He deduces from the humblest 
objects in nature the richest lessons of practical wisdom. To 
him the bumblebee is — 

"Wiser far than human seer. 
Yellow-breeched philosopher. 
Seeing only what is fair. 
Sipping only what is sweet, 
Thou dost mock at fate and care. 
Leave the chaff, and take the wheat." 

He knew the sweet, soothing influence of nature, of which 
Bryant spoke. In " Musketaquid," he says : — 

"All my hurts 
My garden spade can heal. A woodland walk, 
A quest of river grapes, a mocking thrush, 
A wild rose, or rock-loving columbine. 
Salves my worst wounds." 

392. Estimate of his Poetry. — Notwithstanding his treasures 
of beauty and wisdom, Emerson can hardly be a popular poet. 
He dwells in the higher regions of song. He must be content 
with a small but select audience. He does not deal in senti- 
mentality — " poetry fit to be put round frosted cake ; " he does 
not clothe his thought in the richest music of numbers. He is 
profoundly thoughtful ; he earnestly strives to voice the speech- 
less messages of the Over-Soul. He grows upon us as we grasp 
more fully his meaning. Though not the most entertaining of 
our poets, he brings us the deepest and most helpful messages. 
His poetry, like his prose, brings courage and hope to burdened 
and struggling men. He calls them to sincerity, to faith, to truth. 
In the tasks that come to us, divine help is near : — 



"RALPH WALDO EMERSON 225 

"So nigh is grandeur to our dust, 
So near is God to man, 
When Duty whispers low, Thou must, 
The youth repKes, / caw." 

If there are any who question this estimate, let them read, 
besides the poems already mentioned, '' Each and All," " The 
Problem," '' The Rhodora," '' Astraea," " Sursum Corda," '' Ode 
to Beauty," '' Give All to Love," '' Voluntaries," and many 
others. 

393. Literary Method. — Emerson was peculiar in his literary 
methods. It is doubtful whether we have had another author 
so frugal in husbanding every thought. Besides the work done 
in his study day by day, he was accustomed to jot down in a 
note-book the stray thoughts that came to him in conversation 
or on his walks. The suggestions that occurred to him in his 
studies, conversations, and meditations he elaborated in a com- 
monplace book, where he noted the subject of each paragraph. 
He thus preserved the best thoughts of his most fertile moments. 
When he had occasion to prepare an essay or a lecture, he brought 
together all the paragraphs relating to the subject in his common- 
place books, supplying, at the same time, such new connective 
matter as might be necessary. This method will explain the 
evident absence of logical treatment in most of his writings, and 
also account for the fact, noted by Alcott, that '' you may begin 
at the last paragraph and read backwards." Emerson subjected 
his writings to repeated and exacting revisions. Paragraphs 
were condensed, and every superfluous sentence and word were 
mercilessly pruned away. " Nowhere else," as Burroughs says, 
" is there such a preponderance of pure statement, of the very 
attar of thought, over the bulkier, circumstantial, qualifying, or 
secondary elements." 

394. Twilight Years. — The year 1867 is indicated as about 
the limit of his working life. He gave pathetic expression to his 
experience in the poem entitled " Terminus " : — 



2 26 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"It is time to be old, 
To take in sail : — 
The god of bounds, 
Who sets to seas a shore, 
Came to me in his fatal rounds. 
And said, 'No more.'" 

The closing years of his life resembled an ever-deepening twi- 
light. Hearing, sight, memory, slowly but gradually gave way. 
At last, April 27, 1882, surrounded by those he loved, he was 
beckoned " to his vaster home." Shall we not say that his life 
was beautiful? Men testified of him that he was radiant with 
goodness, that his presence was like a benediction, that he exhibited 
the meekness and gentleness of Christ. To have been such a 
man is better than to have been a great writer. 

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

The annotated selection, pages 501-513, is Emerson's essay on ''Art,'' 
which is illustrated by extracts from his poems and other writings. 

In addition to this essay the student is advised to read " His- 
tory," " Self-Reliance," " Compensation," and " The Over-Soul " 
from the Essays. Among the poems he should read " Wood-Notes," 
"Good-by," '' Merlin," ''The Snow-Storm," '' Musketaquid," 
" Each and All," " The Problem," " The Rhodora," " Astraea," 
'' Sursum Corda," '' Ode to Beauty," " Concord Hymn," and 
" The Humble-Bee." 

J. E. Cabot's " Memoir of Ralph Waldo Emerson " ; G. W. 
Cooke's " Ralph Waldo Emerson : His Life, Writings, and Philos- 
ophy " ; Oliver Wendell Holmes's " Ralph Waldo Emerson " 
(Am. Men of Letters Series) ; Richard Garnett's " Ralph Waldo 
Emerson " (Great Writers Series). 

For critical estimates consult the general bibliography and 
Poole's " Index." Edmund Clarence Stedman's " Poets of 
America " ; Matthew Arnold's " Discourses in America " ; James 
Russell Lowell's '' Emerson the Lecturer." 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 



395. Men of Genius. — 

It is not difficult to portray 
the lives of ordinary men. 
Their outward circumstances 
present nothing unusual, and 
their inward experiences ad- 
mit of ready comprehension 
and description. All that is 
needed in such cases is dili- 
gent research. But it is dif- 
ferent with the man upon 
whom Providence has lav- 
ished such a wealth of gifts 
as raises him high above his 
fellows. The outward inci- 
dents of his life may indeed be 
easily narrated. But when 
these have been presented in the fullest measure, how inadequate 
and unsatisfactory the portrait still remains ! That which distin- 
guishes him from other men, and exalts him above them, is felt to 
be untouched. And when we essay to penetrate the secret of his 
genius, we are puzzled and baffled at every step. Only unsatis- 
factory glimpses reward our most patient observation. Strange 
and beautiful flowers may burst forth under our very gaze ; but 
the marvellous energy that produces them remains invisible and 
mysterious. These reflections force themselves upon us as we 
study the life of the most original and most gifted of all our 
American writers. 

227 




Nathaniel Hawthorne 



228 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



396. Ancestry. — The interesting historic town of Salem, 
Mass., has the distinction of being the birthplace of Nathaniel 
Hawthorne. Here he first saw the light, July 4, 1804. He sprang 
from Puritan stock almost as old as the Plymouth colony. The 
strong traits of his ancestry, as he himself recognized, intertwined 




Hawthorne's Birthplace, Salem, Massachusetts 



themselves with his personality. His ancestors occupied a posi- 
tion of social and official prominence, and won an unenviable 
distinction in persecuting Quakers and killing witches. For a 
hundred years before his birth they followed the sea, " a gray- 
headed shipmaster, in each generation, retiring from the quarter- 
deck to the homestead, while a boy of fourteen took the hereditary 
place before the mast, confronting the salt spray and the gale, 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 229 

which had blustered against his sire and grandsire." His father 
was a reserved, thoughtful man of strong will ; his mother, a gifted, 
sensitive woman, who led the life of a recluse after her husband's 
death. These traits, as will be seen, were transmitted to their 
son in an intensified degree. 

397. School Days. — Only glimpses of his boyhood — brief, 
but very distinct — are afforded us. *' One of the peculiarities 
of my boyhood," he tells us, '' was a grievous disinclination to 
go to school, and (Providence favoring me in this natural repug- 
nance) I never did go half as much as other boys, partly owing 
to delicate health (which I made the most of for the purpose), 
and partly because, much of the time, there were no schools within 
reach." One of his early teachers was Worcester of dictionary 
fame. He spent a year at Raymond on the banks of Sebago Lake 
in Maine, where he ran wild, hunting, fishing, skating, and reading 
at pleasure, — a period that subsequently remained with him as 
a happy memory. Returning to Salem, he was tutored for col- 
lege, and entered Bowdoin in the autumn of 1821. 

398. Careless College Career. — His college career cannot be 
cited as a model. " I was an idle student," he confesses, '' negli- 
gent of college rules and the Procrustean details of academic 
life, rather choosing to nurse my own fancies than to dig into 
Greek roots and be numbered among the learned Thebans." He 
played cards on the sly ; he drank (a student never drinks anything 
stronger) " wine " and '' hard cider " ; he went fishing and hunt- 
ing when the faculty thought he was at his books. But in spite 
of his easy-going habits he maintained a respectable standing in 
his classes, and his Latin composition and his rendering of the 
classics were favorably spoken of. He was an exceedingly hand- 
some young man ; and it is said that an old gypsy woman, suddenly 
meeting him in a lonely forest path, was startled into the question, 
"Are you a man or an angel? " Among his college associates, 
who afterwards achieved distinction, were Henry W. Longfellow 
and Franklin Pierce. 

399. Inclination to Literature. — The youth of Hawthorne 



230 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

gave no startling premonitions of future greatness. But there 
is evidence that he was not unconscious of his latent extraordi- 
nary powers; and some at least of his intimate friends discerned 
his Hterary gifts. In a letter to his mother, written in his boy- 
hood, he says : " I do not want to be a doctor and live by men's 
diseases, nor a minister to live by their sins, nor a lawyer and live 
by their quarrels; so I don't see that there is anything left for 
me but to be an author. How would you like, some day, to see a 
whole shelf full of books written by your son, with ' Hawthorne's 
Works ' printed on their backs? " To Horatio Bridge, an old 
and intimate friend, he says : "I know not whence your faith 
came ; but while we were lads together at a country college, . . . 
doing a hundred things that the faculty never heard of, or else it 
had been the worse for us, still it was your prognosis of your friend's 
destiny that he was to be a writer of fiction." 

400. Reading and Observation. — His youthful reading was 
sufficiently extensive. " The Pilgrim's Progress," as with so 
many others, was a favorite book. He read Scott, Rousseau, 
and Froissart, though he was not fond of history in general. He 
loved poetry; and with catholic taste he studied Thomson and 
Pope, as well as Milton and Shakespeare. The first book he 
bought with his own money was " The Faerie Queene." But 
it can hardly be said that he was a great lover of books. He never 
made any pretence to scholarship, and there are few quotations 
in his writings. But he was one of the keenest observers; and 
the books he loved most were the forms of nature and the faces 
of men. These he read as it were by stealth ; and, excepting the 
mighty Shakespeare, no one else ever read them more deeply. 
The quiet forest and the stirring city were to him great libraries, 
where he traced the almost invisible writing of the Creator. Thus, 
as he said of the simple husbandman in " The Great Stone Face," 
he " had ideas unlike those of other men, not gained from books, 
but of a higher tone, — a tranquil and familiar majesty, as if he 
had been talking with the angels as his daily friends." 

401. Study and Seclusion. — After his graduation, in 1825, 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 231 

Hawthorne returned to his home in Salem, and for several years 
led a Ufe of phenomenal seclusion and toil. His habits were almost 
mechanical in their regularity. He studied in the morning, wrote 
in the afternoon, and wandered by the seashore in the evening. 
He sedulously shunned society; and ''destiny itself," he after- 
wards wrote, " has often been worsted in the attempt to get me 
out to dinner." But his recluse life should not be looked upon 
as gloomy and morbid. In pondering human life, he was indeed 
fond of the weird and the mysterious. He explored the hidden 
crypts of the soul. But his mind was far too healthy and strong 
to be weighed down with permanent gloom. He never lost his 
anchorage of common sense ; and a genial humor cast its cheerful 
light upon his darkest musings. 

402. Literary Apprenticeship. — During this period of retire- 
ment he was serving a laborious apprenticeship to his craft. Never 
was a writer more exacting in self-criticism. Much that he wrote 
was mercilessly consigned to the flames. In these years of pains- 
taking toil, from which even the highest genius is not exempt, he 
acquired his exquisite sense of form, and his marvellous mastery 
of English. '' Hawthorne's English," as Hilliard says, is " abso- 
lutely unique ; very careful and exact, but never studied ; with 
the best word always in the best place ; pellucid as crystal ; full 
of delicate and varied music ; with gleams of poetry, and touches 
of that peculiar humor of his, which is half smile and half sigh." 

403. '' Twice-Told Tales." — During the period in question he 
published in the Token, the New England Magazine, and other 
periodicals a considerable number of tales. They appeared anony- 
mously, and attracted but little attention. Hawthorne had 
for a good many years what he called " the distinction of being 
the obscurest man of letters in America." It was a grievous 
disappointment and humiliation. In 1837 most of these scattered 
productions were brought together, and published in a volume 
with the happy title of '' Twice-Told Tales." It had but a Hmited 
circulation. While it charmed a class of cultivated, reflective 
readers, its very excellence prevented it from becoming widely 



232 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

popular. In a review of the book, Longfellow, with clear, critical 
acumen, said : "It comes from the hand of a man of genius. 
Everything about it has the freshness of morning and of May. 
These flowers and green leaves of poetry have not the dust of the 
highway upon them. They have been gathered fresh from the 
secret places of a peaceful and gentle heart. There flow deep 
waters, silent, calm, and cool ; and the green trees look into them, 
and ' God's blue heaven.' The book, though in prose, is written, 
nevertheless, by a poet. He looks upon all things in the spirit of 
love and with lively sympathies, for to him external form is but 
the representation of internal being, all things having a life, and 
end and aim." This volume, together with a second series of 
" Tales " published in 1842, was in truth a remarkable contribu- 
tion to American literature, and, by its enduring interest, beauty, 
and truth, has since established itself as a classic. 

404. The Boston Custom-House. — The year 1838 brought an 
important change in Hawthorne's life. Under the Democratic 
administration of Van Buren, he was appointed weigher and 
ganger in the Boston custom-house. It was well for him that he 
was thus called to common labor. He himself recognized that 
his life of seclusion had been sufficiently protracted. '' I want to 
have something to do with this material world," he said. His 
new employment rescued him from the danger of becoming morbid, 
broadened his sympathies, and enriched his mind with new stores 
of observation and experience. He learned to know life, not as 
it may be conceived of in seclusion, but as it is in reality. Hence- 
forth he was able to take up his pen with the conviction " that 
mankind was a solid reality, and that he himself was not a dream." 

405. At Brook Farm. — After two years of laborious and faith- 
ful service, during which his literary work was suspended, a change 
of administration resulted in his being turned out of office. He 
engaged in the socialistic experiment of Brook Farm; and, as 
we learn from his letters, he entered upon his hew duties with 
considerable enthusiasm. He chopped hay with such " righteous 
vehemence " that he broke the machine in ten minutes. Armed 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 233 

with a pitchfork he made what seemed to him a gallant attack 
upon a heap of manure. He turned grindstones and milked cows ; 
hoed potatoes and picked apples ; made hay and gathered squashes ; 
and then for supper devoured huge mounds of buckwheat cakes. 
But at last his sense of humor, which kept him for a time from 
taking life at Brook Farm too seriously, began to fail him. His 
tasks became intensely prosaic ; and finally he fell into the carnal 
state that made him welcome the idleness of a rainy day, or kept 
him on the sick-list longer than the necessities of the case actually 
required. 

406. ''The Blithedale Romance." — At Brook Farm, as else- 
where, Hawthorne not only made " a prey of people's individu- 
alities," to use his own phrase, but he observed nature also with 
microscopic vision. According to his custom, which he kept up 
through Hfe, he stored his note-books with interesting observations 
and reflections. A few years later he etherealized his Brook Farm 
experience into the '' Blithedale Romance," which ranks as one 
of his best productions. It was pubHshed in 1852. Though he 
protests in the preface against a too literal understanding of his 
romance, Margaret Fuller is thought to have furnished some traits 
of Zenobia ; and it is impossible not to associate Hawthorne him- 
self with Miles Coverdale. 

The following extract, which sets forth the cruel disillusion of 
the Brook Farm visionaries, is not fiction : " While our enter- 
prise lay all in theory, we had pleased ourselves with delectable 
visions of the spiritualization of labor. It was to be our form of 
prayer and ceremonial of worship. Each stroke of the hoe was to 
uncover some aromatic root of wisdom, heretofore hidden from the 
sun. Pausing in the field to let the wind exhale the moisture 
from our foreheads, we were to look upward, and catch glimpses 
into the far-off soul of truth. In this point of view, matters 
did not turn out quite so well as we anticipated. . . . The clods 
of earth, which we so constantly belabored and turned over, were 
never etherealized into thought. Our thoughts, on the contrary, 
were fast becoming cloddish. Our labor symbolized nothing, and 



234 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

left us mentally sluggish in the dusk of the evening. Intellectual 
activity is incompatible with any large amount of bodily exercise." 

407. A Happy Union. — Hawthorne remained at Brook Farm 
not quite a year. He returned to Boston, where he married 
Miss Sophia Peabody in 1842. The union was a peculiarly happy 
one. Mrs. Hawthorne was a gifted and amiable woman, who 
appreciated her husband's genius; and throughout their wedded 
career, which seems to have been unmarred by a single misun- 
derstanding, she stood at his side as a wise counsellor, sympathetic 
friend, and helpful companion. Their correspondence, not only 
during the days of courtship, but also during the whole course of 
their wedded life, constantly breathes a spirit of delicate, tender, 
reverent love. 

408. Poverty and Contentment. — The newly wedded pair at 
once took up their residence in the Old Manse at Concord, where 
they numbered among their friends Emerson, Ellery Channing, 
and Thoreau. Hawthorne had not waited for wealth before 
marrying. It sometimes became a serious problem to satisfy 
the grocer and the butcher. But in spite of the cares growing 
out of their humble circumstances, the happy pair maintained a 
cheerful courage. " The other day," wrote Mrs. Hawthorne, 
*' when my husband saw me contemplating an appalling vacuum 
in his dressing-gown, he said he was ' a man of the largest rents 
in the country, and it was strange he had not more ready money.' 
Our rents are certainly not to be computed ; for everything seems 
now to be wearing out all at once. . . . But, somehow or other, 
I do not care much, because we are so happy. We — 

'Sail away 
Into the regions of exceeding day,' 

and the shell of life is not of much consequence." 

409. " Mosses from an Old Manse." — In the introductory 
chapter to the " Mosses from an Old Manse," a delightful book 
made up of stories written for the most part at this period, Haw- 
thorne gives us a minute description of his new home. The Old 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 



235 



Manse had never been '' profaned by a lay occupant," he says, 
'' until that memorable summer afternoon when I entered it as 
my home. A priest had built it, a priest had succeeded to it, 
other priestly men from time to time had dwelt in it, and children 
born in its chambers had grown up to assume the priestly character. 
It was awful to reflect how many sermons must have been written 




The Old ^Manse at Concord 



there. . . . There was in the rear of the house the most delightful 
little nook of a study that ever offered its snug seclusion to a scholar. 
It was here that Emerson wrote ' Nature ' ; for he was then an 
inhabitant of the Manse, and used to watch the Assyrian dawn 
and the Paphian sunset and moonrise from the summit of our 
eastern hill. When I first saw the room, its walls were blackened 



236 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

with the smoke of unnumbered years, and made still blacker by 
the grim prints of Puritan ministers that hung around. These 
worthies looked strangely like bad angels — or, at least, like men 
who had wrestled so continually and so sternly with the devil 
that somewhat of his sooty fierceness had been imparted to their 
own visages." 

410. Opinion of his Native Town. — Hawthorne lived at Con- 
cord four years, a period of ripened manhood and deepened char- 
acter. He was then appointed surveyor in the custom-house at 
Salem, where he went to live in 1846. He was not very partial 
to his native town ; and in one of his letters of an earlier date he 
gives humorous expression to his dislike : '' Methinks, all enormous 
sinners should be sent on pilgrimage to Salem, and compelled to 
spend a length of time there, proportioned to the enormity of their 
offences. Such punishment would be suited to crimes that do 
not quite deserve hanging, yet are too aggravated for the State's 
prison." He discharged the duties of his office with exemplary 
fidehty. He did but little literary work ; but he was not so entirely 
absorbed in his prosaic duties as not to make his customary but 
silent and unsuspected observations upon the characters of those 
about him. 

411. Portraits from the Custom-House. — In the introduction to 
"The Scarlet Letter," which was published in 1850, he gives 
an account of his custom-house experiences, and furnishes us a 
delightful series of portraits of his subordinates. Take, for ex- 
ample, a single trait in the character of the patriarch of the cus- 
tom-house : " His gormandism was a highly agreeable trait ; and 
to hear him talk of roast meat was as appetizing as a pickle or an 
oyster. As he possessed no higher attribute, and neither sacrificed 
nor vitiated any spiritual endowment by devoting all his energies 
and ingenuities to subserve the dehght and profit of his maw, it 
always pleased and satisfied me to hear him expatiate on fish, 
poultry, and butcher's meat, and the most eligible methods of 
preparing them for the table. His reminiscences of good cheer, 
however ancient the date of the actual banquet, seemed to bring 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 



237 



the savor of pig or turkey under one's very nostrils. There were 
flavors on his palate that had Hngered there not less than sixty 
or seventy years, and were still apparently as fresh as the mutton- 
chop which he had just devoured for his breakfast. I have heard 
him smack his lips over dinners, every guest at which, except 
himself, had long been food for worms. . . . The chief tragic 
event of the old man's life, so far as I could judge, was his mishap 
with a certain goose which hved and died some twenty or forty 
years ago ; a goose of most promising figure, but which at table 
proved so inveterately tough that the carving-knife would make 
no impression on its carcass, and it could only be divided with an 
ax and handsaw." 

412. ''The Scarlet Letter.".— After three years a change of 
administration again led to Hawthorne's retirement. '' Now 
you will have leisure to write your book," cheerfully exclaimed 
his wife, when he told her of his removal. When he asked what 
they would live on meanwhile, she led him to a desk, and proudly 
pointed to a heap of gold that she had saved out of her weekly 
allowance for household expenses. He set to work at once upon 
'' The Scarlet Letter," perhaps the best known of his writings, 
and one of the most subtile and powerful pieces of fiction produced 
in this country. It is a tragedy of sin and remorse, in which 
thoughts are acts. Its extraordinary merits were at once recog- 
nized, and at a single bound Hawthorne attained the Hterary 
eminence that his genius deserved. His day of obscurity was 
past; the praises of " The Scarlet Letter " in America were re- 
echoed in England. This enthusiastic reception of his work, 
which his frequent disappointments had not prepared him for, 
brought him satisfaction and encouragement. It seems to have 
acted upon him as a stimulus to renewed effort; and the years 
immediately following were the most productive of his Hfe. Even 
the greatest genius needs the encouragement of appreciation. 

413. '' The House of the Seven Gables." — In 1850, the year 
in which '' The Scarlet Letter " appeared, Hawthorne moved to 
Lenox in western Massachusetts. He occupied a small red cot- 



238 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

tage, which, but for its commanding view of mountain, lake, and 
valley, could not have been considered in keeping with his gifts 
and fame. His limited means still enforced simplicity of living. 
Here he wrote " The House of the Seven Gables," one of his four 
great romances, which was published in 185 1. It was written, 
as were most of his works, to set forth a spiritual truth. The 
story was never with Hawthorne the principal thing. It was 
simply the skeleton, which he clothed with the flesh of thought 
and vitalized with the breath of truth. " The House of the Seven 
Gables " illustrates the great truth " that the wrong-doing of one 
generation lives into the succeeding ones, and, divesting itself 
of every temporary advantage, becomes a pure and uncontrollable 
mischief." 

414. Various Literary Labors. — While at Lenox, Hawthorne 
wrote also his '' Wonder-Book," for boys and girls, a beautifully 
modernized version of ancient classic myths. Though intended 
for children, it is not without interest for older people. With 
his growing popularity his financial condition improved ; and 
in 1852 he purchased a house at Concord, formerly owned by 
Alcott, to which he gave the name of the Wayside. Here he took 
up his abode, and completed his '' Tanglewood Tales," another 
admirable volume intended for young people. Upon the nomina- 
tion of his friend Franklin Pierce for the presidency, he consented, 
not without urgent solicitation, to prepare a campaign biography. 
It is characterized by good taste and sobriety of judgment. After 
the election of Pierce, he received the appointment of consul to 
Liverpool, and sailed for Europe in 1853. 

415. Irksome Consular Duties. — This opportunity to spend 
some time abroad came to the Hawthornes as the realization of 
a long-cherished dream. Few Americans have been better fitted 
in culture to appreciate and enjoy the society, historic associations, 
and art treasures of the Old World. Though Hawthorne dis- 
charged the duties of his position with conscientious fidelity, its 
emoluments, which were considerable, constituted its principal 
charm. " I disliked my office from the first," he says, " and 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 239 

never came into any good accordance with it. Its dignity, so 
far as it had any, was an incumbrance ; the attentions it drew 
upon me (such as invitations to mayors' banquets and pubHc 
celebrations of all kinds, where, to my horror, I found myself 
expected to stand up and speak) were — as I may say without 
incivility or ingratitude, because there is nothing personal in 
that sort of hospitality — a bore. The official business was 
irksome, and often painful. There was nothing pleasant about 
the whole affair, except the emoluments." 

416. Our Old Home. — As at Salem, Hawthorne kept his eyes 
open to his surroundings, and filled his note-books with many 
charming incidents and descriptions. At intervals he made 
brief excursions to the most noted parts of England. His literary 
fame caused him to be much sought after, and he saw the most 
distinguished men of the time. Like Irving, he entertained a 
friendly feeling toward the mother-country, which he fondly calls, 
in a work recording his experience and impressions, '' Our Old 
Home." But he had no disposition, as he said, to besmear our 
self-conscious English cousins with butter and honey. '' These 
people," he says, " think so loftily of themselves, and so contemp- 
tuously of everybody else, that it requires more generosity than I 
possess to keep always in perfectly good humor with them." 

417. Travel and Observation. — After five years Hawthorne 
resigned the consulate at Liverpool, and then devoted two years 
to travel, chiefly in France and Italy. It was a period of rest, 
observation, and reflection. The art treasures of Rome, as well 
as its historic associations, were a source of exquisite pleasure. 
His Italian impressions he embodied in the last of his great ro- 
mances, '' The Marble Faun." It was sketched out in Italy, 
rewritten in England, and pubhshed in i860. It abounds in art 
criticism and descriptions of Italian scenery. But through it all 
there runs a deathless story, with the profound moral that a per- 
fect culture is unattainable in a state of innocence, and that the 
noblest character can be developed only through spiritual conflict. 

418. Deep Sense of Sin. — Hawthorne had a deep sense of 



240 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

human sin and guilt. It enters into many of his writings, and 
tinges them with a sombre hue. His works appeal most to those 
who have been chastened in toil and suffering. He everywhere 
breathes a spirit of tender sympathy, from which no one, however 
erring and fallen, is excluded. " Man," he says, " must not dis- 
claim his brotherhood even with the guiltiest since, though his 
hand be clean, his heart has surely been polluted by the flitting 
phantoms of iniquity." In the conflicts and sufferings of humanity 
he recognized the struggle of the race after a better and purer life 
than has yet been realized on earth. 

419. Failing Strength and Death. — The year " The Marble 
Faun " appeared, Hawthorne returned to his native country, and 
made his home once more at the Wayside. But the fire of genius 
was burning low. He no longer enjoyed robust health ; and, 
while the country was engaged in the throes of civil war, he found 
it impossible to give himself to the calm, secluded task of invent- 
ing stories. No other great work came from his magic pen. He 
indeed essayed other achievements ; but " Septimius Felton " 
was never finished, and " The Dolliver Romance " remained a 
fragment. His health gradually declined. At last, in the faint 
hope of improvement, he started with his lifelong friend. Pierce, 
on a journey through northern New England. But the sudden 
death that he had desired came to him at Plyniouth, N. H., May 19, 
1864. A few days later he was laid to rest with Thoreau in the 
cemetery at Concord. 

420. Character and Genius. — This survey of Hawthorne's 
life and work enables us to distinguish some of the elements that 
entered into his unique character. His piercing vision gave him 
a deep sense of spiritual reality. Like every finely organized 
nature, he was profoundly reverent. In the seclusion of his cham- 
ber and on his lonely rambles he felt what he calls " the spirit's 
natural instinct of adoration towards a beneficent Father." This 
was the secret of his independence and of his loyalty to truth. 
His ideals were lofty, and any departure from the strictest integrity 
of thought or act appeared to him in the light of treason. With 



NA THA XI EL HA W THORN E 



241 



his eye constantly fixed on the reahties of Hfe, he demanded every- 
where the most perfect sincerity. Few men have ever had a 
more cordial contempt for every form of pretence and hypocrisy. 
He was a keen reader of character, and only true and honest natures 
were admitted to the sacred intimacy of his friendship. His 
tastes were almost feminine in their delicacy. He had an exquisite 
appreciation of the beauties of nature and art. He caught their 
secret meaning. Retiring and modest in disposition, he loathed 
the vulgarity of every form of obtrusiveness. He was peculiarly 
gentle in manner and in spirit ; but it was that noble gentleness 
born, not of weakness^ but of conscious power. His reflective 
temperament had a predilection for the darker and more mys- 
terious side of life. He fathomed the lowest depths of the soul. 
As we read his romances and tales, we have a new sense of the 
meaning and mystery of existence. 



FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

The annotated selections, pages 514-529, include '' The Gray 
Champion'' and "Fancy's S how- Box " from the ''Twice-Told 
Tales." 

In addition it is recommended that the student read " The 
Minister's Black Veil," " A Rill from the Town Pump," " The 
Gentle Boy," ''The Snow Image," "The Celestial Railroad," 
and " The Great Stone Face " — all " Twice-Told Tales," — " The 
Old Manse " in " Mosses from an Old Manse," " BHthedale Ro- 
mance," and " The Scarlet Letter." 

Henry James's " Nathaniel Hawthorne " (Am. Men of Letters 
Series) ; Moncure D. Conway's " Nathaniel Hawthorne " (Great 
Writers Series); Julian Hawthorne's "Nathaniel Hawthorne 
and His Wife " (2 vols.) ; Rose Hawthorne Lathrop's " Mem- 
ories of Hawthorne." 

For critical estimates consult the general bibliography and 
Poole's " Index," James T. Fields's " Yesterdays with Authors," 
and G. P. Lathrop's " A Study of Hawthorne." 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



421. Great Popu- 
larity, — Longfellow 
has gained an en- 
viable place in the 
affections of the 
American people ; 
and in England his 
works, it is said, 
have a wider circula- 
tion than those of 
Tennyson. This 
popularity has not 
been attained by 
brilliancy of genius. 
There have been 
more exquisitely 
gifted poets, who by 
no means have held 
so large a place in 
public esteem. The 
highest genius is perhaps excluded from popularity by its very orig- 
inality. Longfellow, while possessing poetic gifts of a high order, 
has treated themes of general interest. He has wrought within the 
range of ordinary thought and sentiment. 

422. Beauty of his Life. — His life was beautiful in its calm, 
gradual, healthful development. It was not unlike the river 
Charles, of which he sang : — 

"Oft in sadness and in illness, 

I have watched thy current glide, 
242 



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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 243 

Till the beauty of its stillness 
Overflowed me like a tide. 

" And in better hours and brighter, 
When I saw thy waters gleam, 
I have felt my heart beat lighter, 
And leap onward with thy stream." 

His life was itself a poem — a type of all that he has written. 
It was full of gentleness, courtesy, sincerity, and manly beauty. 
It was free from eccentricity; it breathed a large sympathy; it 
grounded itself on invisible and eternal realities. The message 
he brought was sane and helpful. He did not aim at the solu- 
tion of great problems ; he was not ambitious to fathom the lowest 
depths. But for half a century he continued to send forth, in 
simple, harmonious verse, messages of beauty, sympathy, and 
hope. 

423. Parentage, — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born in 
Portland, Me., Feb. 27, 1807. He sprang from a sturdy, hon- 
orable New England family, the founder of which came to Massa- 
chusetts toward the close of the seventeenth century. His father 
was a graduate of Harvard, a prominent lawyer in Portland, and 
at one time a member of Congress. The poet inherited the dis- 
position and manners of his father, who has been described as a 
man '' free from everything offensive to good taste or good feel- 
ing." On his mother's side the poet counted in his ancestral 
line John Alden and Priscilla Mullen, whom he has immortalized 
in " The Courtship of Miles Standish." While his ancestors 
on both sides were characterized by strong sense and sterling 
integrity, there was no indication of latent poetic genius. Its 
sudden appearance in the subject of our sketch is one of those 
miracles of nature that cannot be fully explained by any law of 
heredity. 

424. Early Environment. — During the early years of his life, 
Portland possessed the charm of beautiful scenery and stirring 
incident. The city rises by gentle ascent from Casco Bay. Its 



244 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

principal streets are lined with trees, so that it has been not inaptly 
called '' The Forest City." Back of the town are the stately 
trees of Deering's Woods. It was a place of considerable com- 
mercial importance, and foreign vessels and strange-tongued 
sailors were seen at its wharves. In the War of 1812 defensive 
works were erected on the shore. In a n-aval combat off the 
coast between the British brig Boxer and the United States brig 
Enterprise, the captains of both vessels lost their lives. The deep 
impression made by these scenes and associations is reflected in 
the beautiful poem, " My Lost Youth." 

425. College Career. — Longfellow entered Bowdoin College 
at the age of fifteen. He was courteous in his bearing, refined 
in his taste, and studious in his habits. A classmate, writing of 
him, a half-century later, says, '' He was an agreeable companion, 
kindly and social in his manner, rendering himself dear to his 
associates by his disposition and deportment." He held a very 
high rank in a large and able class. His strong literary bent 
manifested itself early. During his college course he composed 
a number of poems of marked excellence, a few of which have 
been given a place in his " Complete Poetical Works." All young 
writers are apt to be more or less imitative ; and in the poems of 
this period, especially in those treating of nature, the influence of 
Bryant is clearly perceptible. 

426. Strong Literary Bent. — He early showed a strong pre- 
dilection for a literary career. In his eighteenth year he wrote 
to his father : '' The fact is, I most eagerly aspire after future 
eminence in literature; my whole soul burns most ardently for 
it. There may be something visionary in this, but I flatter myself 
that I have prudence enough to keep my enthusiasm from defeat- 
ing its own object by too great haste. . . . Whether nature has 
given me. any capacity for knowledge, or not, she has, at any rate, 
given me a very strong predilection for Hterary pursuits; and I 
am almost confident in beHeving that, if I can ever rise in the 
world, it must be by the exercise of my talent in the wide field 
of Hterature." 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 245 

427. Professor of Modern Languages. — After his graduation 
in 1825, Longfellow began the study of law in his father's office; 
but, Hke several other American authors, he found his legal books 
exceedingly tedious. Soon the way was opened for him to enter 
upon the literary career for which he was eminently fitted by taste 
and talents. While at college his linguistic ability had attracted 
attention. Accordingly, when the department of modern lan- 
guages was established at Bowdoin, he was elected professor, and 
granted leave of absence for travel and study abroad. He sailed 
for Europe in 1826, and spent the next three years in France, 
Germany, Italy, Spain, Holland, and England. He studiously 
familiarized himself with the scenery, customs, language, and 
literature of those countries. Like Paul Flemming in '' Hype- 
rion," '^ He worked his way diligently through the ancient poetic 
lore of Germany, from Frankish legends of St. George and Saxon 
Rhyme-Chronicles, . . . into the bright, sunny land of harvests, 
where, amid the golden grain and the blue cornflowers, walk the 
modern bards, and sing." After his return, he taught five years 
in his Alma Mater with eminent success. 

428. '' Outre Mer." — One of the fruits of his stay abroad was 
a little work in prose entitled " Outre Mer," in which he gave 
some of the " scenes and musings " of his pilgrimage. It is made 
up of a series of pleasant sketches in the manner of Irving's " Sketch 
Book." It was written, as he tells us, when the duties of the day 
were over, and the world around him was hushed in sleep. '' And 
as I write," he concludes, " the melancholy thought intrudes upon 
me, — To what end is all this toil? Of what avail these midnight 
vigils? Dost thou covet fame? Vain dreamer! A few brief 
days, — and what will the busy world know of thee ? Alas ! this 
little book is but a bubble on the stream ; and, although it may 
catch the sunshine for a moment, yet it will soon float down the 
swift-rushing current, and be seen no more ! " 

429. " Footsteps of Angels." — In 183 1 he married Miss Mary 
Storer Potter of Portland, a lady of great personal attractions 
and of exceptional culture. Their married life was brief. She 



246 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

accompanied him on his second visit to Europe, where she died 
in Rotterdam in November, 1835. She is the " being beauteous" 
commemorated in the '' Footsteps of Angels" : — 

''With a slow and noiseless footstep 
Comes the messenger divine, 
Takes the vacant chair beside me, 
Lays her gentle hand in mine. 

"And she sits and gazes at me 

With those deep and tender eyes, 
Like the stars, so still and saint-like, 
Looking downward from the skies. 

"Uttered not, yet comprehended. 
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer. 
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended. 
Breathing from her lips of air." 

430. "Hyperion." — Longfellow's reputation as a teacher and 
writer was not confined to Brunswick. He was generally recog- 
nized as a rising man ; and hence, when the chair of modern 
languages and literature became vacant at Harvard by the resig- 
nation of Professor George Ticknor, he w^as called to Cambridge. 
But before entering upon his duties there, he again went abroad, 
and spent two years in study. In " Hyperion," his second prose 
work, he gave a poetic diary of his wanderings abroad. Its style 
is somewhat dainty and artificial, but in excellent keeping with 
its quaint scholarship. It repeats old legends, translates delight- 
ful lyrics, indulges in easy criticism, abounds in graphic descrip- 
tions, and admirably reproduces the spirit of German life. Now 
and then a serious reflection affords us a glimpse into the depths 
of thought and feeling beneath the facile narrative. The book 
is still eagerly bought, we are told, at the principal points it com- 
memorates. 

431. Home in Cambridge. — In 1836 Longfellow returned to 
this country, and took up his residence in the Craigie house in 



HENRY WADSWORTII LONGFELLOW 



247 



Cambridge. Though it already possessed historic interest as at 
one time Washington's headquarters, it was destined to become 
still more illustrious as the home of the poet. The beauty of its 




Longfellow's Home, the Craigie House, Cambridge 

surroundings rendered it no unfit abode for the Muses. With 
reference to its former majestic occupant, the poet says : — 

'*Once, ah, once within these walls, 
One whom memory oft recalls, 
The Father of his Country, dwelt. 
And yonder meadows broad and damp 
The fires of the besieging camp 
Encircled with a burning belt." 



432. Methods as Teacher. — For seventeen years he faithfully 
discharged his duties as head of the department of modern lan- 
guages at Harvard. His position was not a sinecure. Though 
his lectures were prepared with great care, they were seldom writ- 
ten out in full. He cared but little for the soulless, mechanical 



248 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

learning that consists in a knowledge of insignificant details. 
He wrought with profounder spirit. He introduced his students 
into the beauty of foreign literature, and awakened a desire for 
literary study and culture. 

433. A Literary Group. — He became a prominent figure in the 
remarkable group of Cambridge scholars and writers. His friend- 
ships were select and warm. His relations with Felton, Haw- 
thorne, and Sumner were particularly close, as may be seen in 
the series of sonnets entitled '' Three Friends of Mine." There 
is deep pathos in the concluding lines : — 

"But they will come no more, 
Those friends of mine, whose presence satisfied 
The thirst and hunger of my heart. Ah me ! 
They have forgotten the pathway to my door ! 
Something is gone from nature since they died, 
And summer is not summer, nor can be." 

Among his other intimate friends may be mentioned Lowell 
and Agassiz, both of whom find affectionate remembrance in his 
poems. 

434. '' Voices of the Night." — In 1839, the year in which 
" Hyperion " appeared, Longfellow published a slender volume 
of poetry entitled " Voices of the Night." For the first time the 
pubHc was able to form a fair idea of the qualities of the new 
singer. The key-note of the poems is given in the '' Prelude " : — 

"Look, then, into thine heart, and write ! 

Yes, into Life's deep stream ! 
All forms of sorrow and delight. 
All solemn Voices of the Night, 
That can soothe thee, or affright, 

Be these henceforth thy theme." 

435. Favorite Poems. — The poet struck a sympathetic chord, 
and several of the poems have since remained popular favorites. 
Every poem in the collection has a personal interest. '' A Psalm 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 249 

of Life," so familiar for two generations, is the voice of courage 
that came into the poet's heart as he was rallying from the de- 
pression of bereavement. " The Reaper and the Flowers," which 
was the unlabored expression of a long-cherished idea, he wrote, 
as he tells us, " with peace in his heart, and not without tears in 
his eyes." The pathetic interest of '' Footsteps of Angels " has 
already been mentioned. 

436. " Ballads and Other Poems." — Two years later appeared 
another small volume with the title, '' Ballads and Other Poems." 
It reveals an expansion of the poet's powers. " The Skeleton 
in Armor " rests upon an interesting historical basis. " The 
Wreck of the Hesperus " is written in the old ballad style, the 
spirit of which it successfully reproduces. After the wreck, for 
example, — 

" At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, 
A fisherman stood aghast. 
To see the form of a maiden fair, 
Lashed close to a drifting mast. 

" The salt sea was frozen on her breast, 
The salt tears in her eyes ; 
And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, 
On the billows fall and rise." 

In " The Village Blacksmith," we catch the beauty and excel- 
lence of a life of humble, faithful labor : — 

''Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, 

Onward through life he goes ; 
Each morning sees some task begin. 

Each evening sees it close : 
Something attempted, something done, 

Has earned a night's repose." 

The little poem, " Excelsior," has a deeper meaning than appears 
on the surface. The poet's intention, as explained by himself, 
was " to display, in a series of pictures, the life of a man of genius. 



250 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

resisting all temptations, laying aside all fears, heedless of all 
warnings, and pressing right on to accomplish his purpose." 

437. Fundamental Characteristics. — In these two initial vol- 
umes we have the fundamental characteristics of Longfellow's 
verse. His poetry afterwards swept a wider range ; he under- 
took more ambitious themes, and gained in amplitude of genius. 
But in its essential features, his poetry always retained the same 
quahties. His verse is simple, smooth, melodious, serious. He 
had learned from German lyrists — Heine, Miiller, Uhland — 
the effectiveness of simple measures; and no other poetic forms 
would have been suited to his range of thought and emotion. His 
poetry was but the reflex of the man himself. To use the words 
of Curtis, " What he was to the stranger reading in distant lands, 
by- 

'The long wash of Australasian seas,' 

that he was to the most intimate of his friends. His life and 
character were perfectly reflected in his books. There is no purity, 
or grace, or feeling, or spotless charm in his verse which did not 
belong to the man." 

438. Subject and Spirit. — In Europe he steeped himself in 
mediaeval literature. He familiarized himself with its wonder- 
ful legends. He breathed the romantic spirit that had recently 
brought new life into the literature of Germany, France, and 
England. Discarding conventionahty, he strove to be true to 
nature. With true poetic discernment, he pointed out the beauty 
and pathos of human life. His poetry does not display erratic 
brilliancy; it does not suddenly blaze out in meteoric splendor, 
and then sink into darkness. It breathes an atmosphere of faith, 
hope, and courage. Longfellow does not indeed rise to the rank 
of the greatest masters of song. But w^hatever he has lost in ad- 
miration, he has more than gained in the higher tribute of love. 

439. Three Notable Things. — The year 1843 is notable in the 
poet's life for three things. The first was the publication of 
"The Spanish Student," a pleasant drama intended for reading, 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 251 

rather than acting. Its characters are drawn with sufficient 
clearness; and Preciosa, the gypsy dancing-girl, is a charming 
creation. The play exhibits the poet's intimate knowledge of 
Spanish character and customs, and is full of interesting incident 
and passionate poetry. The second event was the appearance 
of his small collection of " Poems on Slavery." He was not an 
agitator ; his modest, retiring nature unfitted him for the tasks 
of a bold, popular leader. But, during the agitation of the great 
slavery question, he was not an entirely passive spectator. 
Through his anti-slavery poems, which set forth strongly the darker 
side of slavery, he lent the weight of his influence to the friends of 
emancipation. In the light of subsequent evients, the last stanza 
of *' The Warning " seems almost Uke prophecy : — 

''There is a poor, blind Samson in this land, 

Shorn of his strength and bound in bonds of steel, 

Who may, in some grim revel, raise his hand, 
And shake the pillars of this Commonweal, 

Till the vast Temple of our liberties 

A shapeless mass of wreck and rubbish lies." 

The third event of the year was the poet's marriage to Miss 
Frances Elizabeth Appleton of Boston, the original of Mary 
Ashburton in '' Hyperion." She was fitted in mind and person 
to walk at the poet's side ; and years afterwards, when surrounded 
by her five children, she was described as a Cornelia in matronly 
beauty and dignity. 

440. Noteworthy Volumes. — In 1845 appeared " Poets and 
Poetry of Europe," a large volume containing nearly four hun- 
dred translations from ten diff"erent languages. In its prepara- 
tion, which occupied him nearly two years, he had the assistance 
of his friend Professor Felton. In December of the same year 
he published " The Belfry of Bruges, and Other Poems," in which 
appears some of his best work. The initial poem and " Nurem- 
berg " are admirable '' poems of places." '^ The Day is Done " 
has long been a general favorite ; and, excepting the unfortunate 



252 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

simile in the first stanza, it is almost faultless in its simplicity 
and beauty. " The Arsenal at Springfield " deservedly ranks 
among the best of his shorter poems. It is quite " warlike against 
war," and expresses faith in its ultimate banishment from the 
earth : — 

''Down the dark future, through long generations, 
The echoing sounds grow fainter, and then cease^ 
And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, 

I hear once more the voice of Christ say 'Peace.'" 

Among the other poems of this collection deserving especial 
notice is " The Old Clock on the Stairs." The old-fashioned coun- 
try-seat commemorated in the poem was the homestead of Mrs. 
Longfellow's maternal grandfather, whither the poet went for a 
short time after his marriage in 1843. 

441. "Evangeline." — Two years later appeared "Evange- 
line," which Holmes regards as our author's masterpiece, — a judg- 
ment sustained by general opinion. The story Longfellow owed 
to Hawthorne, to whom he gracefully wrote after the publication 
and success of the poem : "I thank you for resigning to me that 
legend of Acady. This success I owe entirely to you, for being 
willing to forego the pleasure of writing a prose tale which many 
people would have taken for poetry, that I might write a poem 
which many people take for prose." The metre is dactylic hexam- 
eter, which has had great difficulty in naturalizing itself in Eng- 
lish poetry. Longfellow, who had made previous experiments 
in this measure, did not share the common prejudice against it. 
" The English world," he wrote, " is not yet awake to the beauty 
of that metre." He was, perhaps, encouraged by the success of 
Goethe in " Hermann and Dorothea." 

442. An Interesting Test. — The result has amply sustained 
the poet's judgment. The story could hardly have been so de- 
lightful in any other measure. He has himself made the test 
in a single passage. In the second canto of Part Second, the 
singing of the mocking-bird is described as follows : — 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 253 

"Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, 
Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, 
Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, 
That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen. 
Plaintive at first were the tones, and sad; then soaring to madness 
Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied Bacchantes. 
Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lamentation 
Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in derision, 
As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree-tops 
Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower on the branches." 

In comparison with this, how tame the following rendering 
in the common English rhymed pentameter : — 

"Upon a spray that overhung the stream. 
The mocking-bird, awaking from his dream, 
Poured such delirious music from his throat 
That all the air seemed listening to his note. 
Plaintive at first the song began, and slow; 
It breathed of sadness, and of pain and woe ; 
Then, gathering all his notes, abroad he flung 
The multitudinous music from his tongue, — 
As, after showers, a sudden gust again 
Upon the leaves shakes down the rattling rain." 

443. Hostile Criticism. — It is not to be supposed that Long- 
fellow escaped criticism. His success and popularity excited 
envy, and Poe especially was relentless in his attacks. He labored 
hard but ineffectually to establish his favorite charge of plagia- 
rism. The transcendentalists were scant in their praise. Though 
Longfellow counted some of their leading representatives among 
his friends, his poetry shows scarcely a trace of transcendentalism. 
His simple themes and familiar truths seemed elementary and 
trivial to the transcendentalists. The editor of the Dial irrever- 
ently described him as " a dandy Pindar." But the poet endured 
harsh criticism with rare equanimity. He never replied to any 
criticism, no matter how unjust or severe. When critiques were 
sent to him, he read only those w^hich were written in a pleasant 



254 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

spirit. The rest he dropped into the fire; and "in that way," 
he remarked, '' one escapes much annoyance." 

444. Prose and Poetry. — After the pubHcation of " Evange- 
Hne," the poet's muse was less productive for a time; and he 
himself lamented that the golden days of October,, usually so 
fruitful in verse, failed to stir him to song. Still, it was not a 
period of complete inactivity. He amused himself in writing 
the prose tale of " Kavanagh," which, in spite of Hawthorne's 
generous praise, has remained the least popular of his works. 
By 1849 he accumulated sufficient verse for a slender volume, 
which was published under the title of " The Seaside and the Fire- 
side." Among the sea-pieces, which show the poet's fondness 
for the ocean, " The Building of the Ship " is most worthy of 
notice. It is modelled after Schiller's " Song of the Bell " ; and 
in its details, as in its general plan, it is admirably conceived and 
wrought out. 

"His heart was in his work, and the heart 
Giveth grace unto every art." 

445. "Resignation." — Among the fireside pieces, "Resigna- 
tion " has been read with tears in many a mourning household. 
It was written after the death of the poet's little daughter Fanny, 
of whom he noted in his diary : " An inappeasable longing to 
see her comes over me at times, which I can hardly control." He 
found consolation only in the great truth of immortality. 

"There is no death ! What seems so is transition; 
This life of mortal breath 
Is but a suburb of the life elysian. 
Whose portal we call death. 

" She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — 
But gone unto that school 
Where she no longer needs our poor protection. 
And Christ himself doth rule." 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 255 

446. ''Hiawatha." — His numerous works now brought the 
poet a comfortable income. With increasing devotion to Uterary 
work, he found the exacting duties of the class-room irksome. 
Accordingly, in 1854, he resigned his chair in Harvard College. 
He was in his intellectual prime, and several of his greatest works 
were yet to be written. About the time of his resignation the idea 
of " Hiawatha " occurred to him ; and he wrote in his diary : ''I 
have at length hit upon a plan for a poem on the American Indians, 
which seems to me the right one and the only. It is to weave 
together their beautiful traditions into a whole. I have hit upon 
a measure too, which I think the right and only one for such a 
theme." The peculiar trochaic metre, with its repetitions and 
parallelisms, was suggested by the Finnish epic " Kalevala," to 
which also, in some slight degree, he seems otherwise indebted. 
The legends of the poem were taken from Schoolcraft. Longfellow 
worked at the poem with great interest and industry, and finished 
it in nine months. But, as it approached completion, he was 
troubled with grave doubts as to the success of his novel 
venture. 

447. Parody and Ridicule. — Its publication in 1855 created 
something of a literary sensation. Never before, perhaps, was 
a poem so criticised, parodied, and ridiculed. When most fiercely 
assailed, the poet preserved his usual equanimity and silence. 
" My dear Mr. Longfellow," exclaimed his excited publisher, 
rushing into the poet's study, " these atrocious libels must be 
stopped." Longfellow silently glanced over the attacks in ques- 
tion. As he handed the papers back, he inquired, " By the way. 
Fields, how is 'Hiawatha' selling?" '^Wonderfully," was the 
reply ; " none of your books has ever had such a sale." " Then," 
said the poet calmly, " I think we had better let these people go 
on advertising it." The poem finally established itself as a gen- 
eral favorite — a position which it deserves. To remove any 
doubts, it will be sufficient to read " Hiawatha's Wooing," with 
its familiar opening lines : — 



256 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"As unto the bow the cord is, 
So unto the man is woman ; 
Though she bends him, she obeys him ; 
Though she draws him, yet she follows ; 
Useless each without the other." 

448. " Courtship of Miles Standish." — At this period the poet 
was abundant in labors. Scarcely was one w^ork off the anvil 
till another was taken up. After the publication of ''Hiawatha," 
the success of which was encouraging, he turned his attention 
to a New England colonial theme. " The Courtship of Miles 
Standish " rests upon a trustworthy tradition. The Pilgrims of 
Plymouth were less austere than the Puritans of Boston. Their 
sojourn in Holland had softened somew^hat their temper and 
manners. The poem reproduces the manners of the early colonial 
times with sufficient accuracy. It is less ideal than " Evange- 
line " ; and its reaHsm renders its hexameters more rugged. The 
reply of the Puritan maiden Priscilla, as John Alden was pleading 
the cause of his rival, was not a poetic fiction : — 

"But as he warmed and glowed, in his simple and eloquent language. 
Quite forgetful of self, and full of the praise of his rival, 
Archly the maiden smiled, and, with eyes overrunning with laughter. 
Said, in a tremulous voice, 'Why don't you speak for yourself, John? ' " 

449. Some Notable Pieces. — " The Courtship of Miles Stan- 
dish " was published in 1858, along with a number of miscel- 
laneous poems, several of w^hich deserve especial mention. " The 
Ladder of St. Augustine " contains the well-known stanza : — 

"The heights by great men reached and kept 
Were not attained by sudden flight ; 
But they, while their companions slept, 
Were toiling upward in the night." 

" The Two Angels," a poem of tender pathos, was written, 
as the poet tells us, " on the birth of my younger daughter, and 
the death of the young and beautiful wife of my neighbor and 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 257 

friend, the poet Lowell." For the dark problem of life he finds 
but the one solution of absolute trust in Providence : — 

"Angels of life and death alike are his; 

Without his leave they pass no threshold o'er ; 
Who, then, would wish or dare, believing this, 
Against his messenger to shut the door?" 

The poem, " Children," like the later one, '' The Children's 
Hour," reveals to us the poet's tender, sympathetic nature : — 

"For what are all our contrivings, 
And the wisdom of our books, 
When compared with your caresses. 
And the gladness of your looks? 

" Ye are better than all the ballads 
That ever were sung or said ; 
For ye are living poems, 
And all the rest are dead." 

450. Bereavement and Toil. — In 1861 an awful calamity be- 
fell the poet. His wife was so severely burned, in spite of his 
efforts to extinguish the flames, that she died in a few hours. 

He was for a time prostrated by the blow. When he began to 
recover, he sought, like Bryant, relief from his sorrow in the 
work of translation. Throughout life he found pleasure in turn- 
ing the thoughts of foreign poets into his native tongue. His 
various lyrical versions are sufficient to fill a good-sized volume. 
But he now gave himself to the serious task of turning Dante's 
" Divina Commedia," of which he had long been a devout student, 
into English verse. The translation closely follows the original, 
and is, perhaps, the most satisfactory version of the great Italian 
in our language. 

451. " Tales of a Wayside Inn." — The first series of " Tales 
of a Wayside Inn " was published in 1863, the two succeeding 
parts appearing in 1872 and 1873. The plan is obviously borrowed 



258 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

from Boccaccio and Chaucer. The Wayside Inn was an old 
tavern at Sudbury, and the characters supposed to be gathered 
there were all real. The youth — 

"Of quiet ways, 
A student of old books and days," 

was Henry Ware Wales, a liberal benefactor of Harvard College. 
The young Sicilian was Professor Luigi Monti, an intimate friend, 
who 'for many years was in the habit of dining with the poet on 
Sunday. The Spanish Jew was Israel Edrehi, who is described 
as the poet knew him. The theologian was Professor Daniel 
Treadwell. The poet was T. W. Parsons, a man of real genius, 
but of very retiring nature. The musician was Ole Bull. The 
tales are borrowed from various sources, — modern, mediaeval, 
Talmudic, — and many of them possess great merit. " Paul 
Revere's Ride " is written with rare vigor. Among the other 
more notable tales are '' The Falcon of Ser Federigo," '' King 
Robert of Sicily," '' Torquemada," '' The Birds of Kilhngworth," 
" The Bell of Atri," " The Legend Beautiful," and " Emma and 
Eginhard." 

452. ''The Golden Legend." — Longfellow early conceived 
the purpose " to build some tower of song with lofty parapet." 
In 1 841 he noted in his diary : '' This evening it has come into my 
mind to undertake a long and elaborate poem by the holy name 
of Christ; the theme of which could be the various aspects of 
Christendom in the Apostolic, Middle, and Modern Ages.", 
Though the task was long delayed, this lofty purpose was never 
relinquished, and through years of thought it slowly assumed 
definite shape. After nine years he set to work in earnest to com- 
pose '' The Golden Legend," which was intended to illustrate 
Christianity in the Middle Ages. It gives a vivid picture of the 
manners of the thirteenth century. The story running through 
" The Golden Legend " is taken from the minnesinger Hartmann 
von der Aue. The poem was published in 1851, without any 
intimation of the larger work of which it forms the central part. 



HEXRV WADSWORTII LONGFELLOW 



259 



453. "New England Tragedies." — Nearly a score of years 
passed before another part of the trilogy of '' Christus " appeared. 
It was properly entitled '' The New England' Tragedies," and is 
a sickening record of delusion, intolerance, and cruelty. Un- 
fortunately the imagination had but a small share in the work, 
which is little more than a skilful metrical version of official records. 
It was published in 1868 as an independent work, and was received 
rather coldly. Considered in its relation to the larger work, it 
must be judged unfortunate. It is depressing in itself; it does 
not represent the spirit of modern Christianity ; and it leaves the 
trilogy of '* Christus " incomplete. 

454. " The Divine Tragedy." — '' The Divine Tragedy," which 
was published three years later, in 187 1, is a close metrical version 
of the Gospel history. It presents the successive scenes in the 
life of Christ in a graphic and interesting way. The effort to 
adhere as closely as possible to the language of the Gospels has 
prevented a very high degree of metrical excellence. With the 
publication of '' The Divine Tragedy," the plan of the poet was 
revealed. Though '' Christus " will always be read with gentle 
interest, especially '' The Golden Legend," it can hardly rank 
among his greatest works. 

455. Several Admirable Poems. — Of his other poems, only a 
few can be mentioned. " The Hanging of the Crane " is a pathetic 
picture of the common course of domestic life. '' Morituri Salu- 
tamus " is an admirable poem, written for the fiftieth anniversary 
of the class of 1825 in Bowdoin College. '' Keramos " is a second 
successful effort in the manner of Schiller's " Song of the Bell." 
" A Book of Sonnets " shows Longfellow to have been a master 
in that difficult form of verse. The several small volumes of lyrics 
of his later years, while adding little to his fame, showed that the 
poetic fires within his breast were still burning brightly. 

456. Death and Burial. — Longfellow had now lived beyond 
the allotted age of man. He had filled out a beautiful, well- 
rounded life. Both as a man and as a poet he had gained the 
respect and love of two generations. But at last, with little 



26o AMERICAN LITERATURE 

warning, the end came. On March 15, 1882, he completed his 
last poem, " The Bells of San Bias," with the words, — 

" Out of the shadows of night 
The world rolls into light; 
It is daybreak everywhere." 

A little more than a week later, March 27,, he passed away. 
The funeral service, in keeping with his unassuming character, 
was simple. Only his family and a few intimate friends — among 
them Curtis, Emerson, and Holmes — were present ; but two 
continents were mourning his death. 

"His gracious presence upon earth 
Was as a fire upon a hearth ; 
As pleasant songs, at morning sung, 
The words that dropped from his sweet tongue 
Strengthened our hearts, or, heard at night, 
Made all our slumbers soft and light." 

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

The annotated selections, pages 530-554, include " A Psalm of 
Life;' ''Footsteps of Angels,'" " The Skeleton in Armor,'' " The 
Arsenal at Springfield,'" and " The Building of the Ship." 

Read also " My Lost Youth," "Three Friends of Mine," "The 
Wreck of the Hesperus," "The Village Blacksmith," "The Bridge," 
" The Warning," " The Belfry of Bruges," " The Day is Done," 
" The Old Clock on the Stairs," " The Two Angels," " The Chil- 
dren's Hour," "Paul Revere's Ride," "The Hanging of the 
Crane," " Keramos," " Morituri Salutamus," " Hiawatha's Woo- 
ing," " The Courtship of Miles Standish," and " Evangeline." 

Samuel Longfellow's " Life of Longfellow " (3 vols.) ; E. S. 
Robertson's " Henry W. Longfellow " (Great Writers Series). 

For critical estimates consult the general bibliography and 
Poole's " Index," particularly Geo. Wm. Curtis's " Longfellow," 
Harper, June, 1882 ; Horace E. Scudder's " Men and Letters," 
and E. C. Stedman's " Poets of America." 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 




457. More than a Writer. 
— Lowell was more than a 
writer. His writings, numer- 
ous and excellent as they 
are, do not fully represent 
him. He tried to follow his 
own precept : — 

"The epic of a man rehearse ; 
Be something better than thy 
verse." 

None of our literary men 
were great in so many ways. 
He ranks high as a poet. His 
critical papers are among the 
most elaborate and excellent 
produced in this country. He was a speaker of no mean ability, 
and a scholar of wide attainments. But overshadowing all these 
literary accomplishments stands his personality, — a man of 
strong intellect, with wide sympathies, and sterling integrity. 

458. Forceful Originality. — He appeared among the earlier 
singers of the century. Though influenced for a time, as all 
young writers are apt to be, by favorite authors, Lowell is strik- 
ingly original. In his earlier verse we detect an occasional note 
from Tennyson or Wordsworth; but his strong intellect soon 
hewed out a course of its own. His mind was tumultuous with 
the interests of his day. He rushed to the combat for truth and 
freedom with abounding zeal. He proclaimed his message in 

261 



James Russell Lowell 



262 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

verse distinguished, not for harmony and grace, but for vehemence 
and force. He was armed with heroic courage : — 

"They are slaves who dare not be 
In the right with two or three. " 

He beUeved in bravely doing his part to right existing wrongs ; 
for — 

"God hates your sneakin' creturs that believe 
He'll settle things they run away and leave." 

459. New England Spirit. — Lowell was a New Englander, 
not only by birth, but by spirit and affection. He was proud 
of his Puritan ancestry. He loved the landscape of New England 
and the character of its people. This affection gave him a keen 
insight into the strength and weakness of New England charac- 
ter, and made him delight in its peculiar dialect : — 

"For puttin' in a downright lick 

'Twixt Humbug's eyes, there's few can metch it, 
And then it helves my thoughts ez slick 
Ez stret-grained hickory doos a hetchet." 

Though a broad-minded patriot, he remained throughout life 
a doughty champion of New England. 

460. Distinguished Ancestry. — The Lowell name has an 
honored place in the history of Massachusetts. Each genera- 
tion, since the first settlement of the family at Newbury in 1639, 
has had its distinguished representative. The city of Lowell 
is named after Francis Cabot Lowell, who was among the first 
to perceive that the prosperity of New England was to come 
from its manufactures. John Lowell was an eminent judge, and 
introduced into the Constitution the section by which slavery 
was abolished in Massachusetts. John Lowell, Jr., by a bequest 
of $250,000, founded Lowell Institute in Boston. As a family, 
the Lowells have been distinguished for practical sense, liberal 
thought, and earnest character. 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 263 

461. Parentage. — James Russell Lowell was born in Cam- 
bridge, Feb. 22, 1 819. His father, as well as his grandfather, was 
an able and popular minister. The poetic strain in Lowell's 
character seems to have been inherited from his mother. She 
was of Scotch descent, had a talent for languages, and was passion- 
ately fond of old ballads. Thus Lowell's opening mind was nour- 
ished on minstrelsy and romance. He early learned to appreciate 
what is beautiful in nature and in life. 

462. Career at Harvard. — He entered Harvard College in 
1835 ; but no part of his fame rests on his record as a student. 
He had an invincible repugnance to mathematics ; and he read 
everything else, it has been said, but his text-books. For irreg- 
ularity in attending morning prayers, he was suspended for a 
time ; but prayers were then held at sunrise ! His genial nature 
and recognized ability made him a favorite among his fellow stu- 
dents. When he graduated, in 1838, he was chosen poet of his 
class. Then followed the study of law. He opened an office in 
Boston, but his heart was not in his profession. Various poets 
— Byron, Shelley, Keats, Coleridge, Tennyson — were more to 
him than his law-books. In his abundant leisure he wrote a 
story entitled " My First Client," but it is doubtful if he ever 
got that far in a successful legal career. 

463. "A Year's Lif e. " — While waiting for the chents that 
never came, he found solace in poetry. Love touched his heart, 
and caused a copious fountain of verse to gush forth. In 1841 
he published a little volume with the title " A Year's Life." Its 
motto, borrowed from Schiller, gave the key-note to the ])oetry : 
" Ich habe gelebt iind geliebet.'' The verse was inspired by Miss 
Maria White, a refined, beautiful, and sympathetic woman, whom 
the poet married three years later, and with whom for nearly a 
decade he lived in almost ideal union. This volume revealed the 
presence of poetic gifts of a high order. 

464. The Pioneer. — The next step in Lowell's career was to 
become an editor, — a calling in which he subsequently achieved 
enviable distinction. In company with Robert Carter, he estab- 



264 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

lished the Pioneer in 1843. ^t was a literary journal of high excel- 
lence. Among its contributors were Hawthorne, Poe, Whittier, 
Story, and Parsons, — a galaxy sufficient, one would think, to 
insure success. But only three numbers appeared. The public 
of that time was not distinguished for literary culture. The 
Pioneer was in advance of its day; and, after a brief career, it 
may be said to have died a glorious death. 

465. Second Volume of Poetry. — In 1844 appeared a second 
volume of poems, in which the hand of a master is apparent. He 
aims to rise above the empty rhymer, — 

''Who lies with idle elbow on the grass. 
And fits his singing, like a cunning timer, 

To all men's prides and fancies as they pass." 

He sings of love, truth, patriotism, humanity, religion, cour- 
age, hope — great themes which his large soul expands to meet. 
His verse may be at times exuberant and rhetorical, but it em- 
bodies virile power of thought and emotion. The fundamental 
principles, not only of all his poetry but of his character, are 
found in this volume. In '' An Incident in a Railroad Car " we 
see his sense of human worth, regardless of the accidents of 
fortune : — 

"All that hath been majestical 

In life or death, since time began, 
Is native in the simple heart of all. 
The angel heart of man. 

And thus, among the untaught poor. 
Great deeds and feelings find a home, 

That cast in shadow all the golden lore 
Of classic Greece and Rome." 

466. Fundamental Beliefs. — He had unwavering confidence 
in the indestructible power of truth. In " A Glance Behind the 
Curtain," he says : — 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 265 

" Get but the truth once uttered, and 'tis like 
A star new-born, that drops into its place, 
And which, once circling in its placid round. 
Not all the tumult of the earth can shake." 

A well-known passage in " The Present Crisis " reveals his 
faith in the watchful care of God : — 

"Careless seems the great Avenger; history's pages but record 
One death-grapple in the darkness 'twixt old systems and the Word ; 
Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne, — 
Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown, 
Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own." 

His love of human freedom is revealed in the poem " On the 
Capture of Fugitive Slaves near Washington " : — 

''He's true to God who's true to man ; wherever wrong is done, 
To the humblest and the weakest, 'neath the all-beholding sun. 
That wrong is also done to us ; and they are slaves most base, 
Whose love of right is for themselves, and not for all their race." 

These are all characteristic themes; and because they came 
from the poet's heart, we find in subsequent poems the same 
truths presented again and again in richly varied language. 

With his strong, positive nature, it was natural for Lowell to 
take part in the slavery agitation of the time. When it cost 
him unpopularity, he had the courage of his convictions. He 
acted as he wrote : — 

"Then to side with Truth is noble when we share her wretched crust. 
Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 'tis prosperous to be just." 

467. " The Biglow Papers." — The first series of '' The Biglow 
Papers " belongs to the period of the Mexican War ; the second 
series, to the period of the Civil War. In these poems, written 
in what he calls the Yankee dialect, Lowell gives free rein to all 
his resources of argument, satire, and wit. He hits hard blows. 
A forcible truth is sometimes clothed in homely language : — 



266 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

''Laborin' man an' laborin' woman 
Hev one glory an' one shame. 
Ev'y thin' that's done inhuman 
Injers all on 'em the same." 

The " pious editor," who reverences Uncle Sam, '' partic'- 
larly his pockets," confesses his creed : — 

"I du believe in prayer an' praise 

To him that hez the grantin' 
O' jobs, — in every thin' thet pays, 

But most of all in Cantin' ; 
This doth my cup wi^ marcies fill, 

This lays all thought o' sin to rest, — 
I donH believe in princerple, 

But O, I du in interest." 

468. '' What Mr. Robinson Thinks." — The little poem " What 
Mr. Robinson Thinks " was a palpable hit, with its refrain : — 

"But John P. 
Robinson he 
Sez he wunt vote for Guvener B." 

These lines took hold of the public fancy, and were repeated 
in season and out of season. It is said that Mr. Robinson, who 
was a worthy man, went abroad to get away from the sound of 
his own name. But on going to his hotel in Liverpool, the first 
thing he heard was a childish voice repeating : — 

"But John P. 
Robinson he." 

" The Biglow Papers " deservedly ranks as our best pohtical 
satire. 

469. " The Vision of Sir Launfal." — In 1848 appeared " The 
Vision of Sir Launfal," which must always remain his most popu- 
lar work. It is a treatment of the old legend of the Holy Grail ; 
and, excepting Tennyson's idyl, nothing more worthy of the 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 267 

theme has ever been written. The poem was written at white- 
heat. It was composed substantially in its present form in forty- 
eight hours, during which the poet scarcely ate or slept. We 
find in it a full expression of his poetic powers, — his energetic 
thought, his deep emotion, his vigorous imagination. In the 
preludes the poet's love of nature is apparent, as well as the strong 
moral feeling that formed the substratum of his character. What 
lines are oftener quoted than these : — 

**And what is so rare as a day in June? 
Then, if ever, come perfect days." 

And the following verses contain a vigorous bit of moralizing : — 

" For a cap and bells our lives we pay, 
Bubbles we buy with a whole soul's tasking; 

'Tis heaven alone that is given away, 
'Tis only God may be had for the asking." 

470. ''A Fable for Critics." — The same year appeared "A 
Fable for Critics," a literary satire without the savagery of Byron's 
" English Bards and Scotch Reviewers," or the malignancy of 
Pope's " Dunciad." It is a humorous review of the leading Ameri- 
can authors of the day; but beneath the fun there is a sober 
judgment that rarely erred in its estimates. Along with atrocious 
rhymes and barbarous puns, there are many fehcitous characteri- 
zations. He calls Bryant, to whom he was scarcely just, an ice- 
berg : — 

''If he stir you at all, it is just, on my soul. 
Like being stirred up with the very North Pole." 

He hits off Poe as follows : — 

"There comes Poe, with his raven, like Barnaby Rudge, 
Three-fifths of him genius, and two-fifths sheer fudge." 

471. Self-Criticism. — He was quite as severe to himself as to 
any of his contemporaries ; and, as will be seen from the follow- 
ing lines, he was not blind to his own peculiarities : — 



268 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"There is Lowell, who's striving Parnassus to climb — 
' With a whole bale of isms tied together with rime. 
He might get on alone, spite of brambles and boulders, 
But he can't with that bundle he has on his shoulders ; 
The top of the hill he will ne'er come nigh reaching, 
Till he learns the distinction 'twixt singing and preaching ; 
His lyre has some chords that would ring pretty weU, 
But he'd rather by half make a drum of the shell, 
And rattle away till he's old as Methusalem, 
At the head of a march to the last New Jerusalem." 

The poem is loose in construction and unsymmetrical in form, 
and it is to be regretted that the poet never thought it worth 
while to bring it into artistic shape. It was first published anony- 
mously, but its authorship was soon fixed. Lowell was the only 
man in America who could have written it. 

472. Course of Lectures. — A larger career was now opening 
before him. Up to the time of her death, in 1853, his wife, in 
their beautiful home at Elmwood, had stimulated him to high 
endeavor. Always fond of reading, and blessed with a capacious 
memory, he had acquired a wide range of knowledge. In the 
winter of 1854-55, he delivered before the Lowell Institute a course 
of twelve lectures on the British poets. Disdaining the arts of 
the popular orator, he placed his reliance for success, where alone it 
can permanently rest, on genuine merit. He read his lectures in an 
earnest, manly way ; and their learning, thought, critical insight, 
and poetic feeling gave to every discourse an indescribable charm. 

473. Successor to Longfellow. — In 1855, on the resignation 
of Longfellow, he was appointed professor of modern languages 
at Harvard, with a leave of absence for two years, to study abroad. 
He resided chiefly at Dresden, and gave himself to a methodical 
course of reading in European literature. Like all men of large 
mould, he had an immense capacity for assimilation. When he 
returned to America in 1857, and entered upon his duties, he was 
not unworthy to occupy the chair of his illustrious predecessor. 
He was an admirable lecturer ; and while his ability commanded 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 



269 



the respect, his ready kindness won the affection, of the students. 
Harvard has never had, perhaps, a more popular professor. 

474. Editorial Labors. — The year 1857 witnessed two impor- 
tant events in the Hfe of Lowell. The first was his marriage 
to Miss Frances Dunlop of Portland, Me., who had superin- 




Lo well's Home, " Elm wood " 

tended the education of his daughter during his absence abroad. 
The second was the establishment of the Atlantic, of which he 
became editor-in-chief. His contributions were in both prose 
and poetry, and were, it is needless to say, of a high order. He 
continued as editor till 1862, when he was succeeded by Mr. Fields. 
But his editorial career was not yet ended. In 1864 he took charge 
of the 'North American Review, of which he remained editor till 
1873. He was particularly kind to young writers, and lost no 
opportunity to speak a word of encouragement. 

475. "Fireside Travels." — In 1864 he puWished a volume 
in prose, entitled " Fireside Travels," containing " Cambridge 



270 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Thirty Years Ago," "A Moosehead Journal," and ''Leaves 
from My Journal in Italy and Elsewhere." It is a delightful 
book, full of wit, wisdom, and exuberant fancy. The tide of a 
full, strong life is reflected in its pages. Here is a characteris- 
tic bit of description : " The chief feature of the place was its 
inns, of which there were five, with vast barns and courtyards, 
which the railroad was to make as silent and deserted as the 
palaces of Nimroud. Great white-topped wagons, each drawn 
by double files of six or eight horses, with its dusty bucket swing- 
ing from the hinder axle, and its grim bull-dog trotting silent under- 
neath, or in midsummer panting on the lofty perch beside the 
driver (how elevated thither baffled conjecture), brought all the 
wares and products of the country to their mart and seaport in 
Boston. These filled the inn-yards, or were ranged side by side 
under broad-roofed sheds; and far into the night the mirth of 
their lusty drivers clamored from the red-curtained bar-room, 
while the single lantern, swaying to and fro in the black cavern 
of the stables, made a Rembrandt of the ostlers and horses below." 

476. " Under the Willows." — " Under the Willows," a vol- 
ume of poems published in 1869, exhibits Lowell's poetic genius 
at the zenith of its power. It is less luxuriant in manner, and its 
chaster form adds force to its wisdom and pathos. There is 
scarcely a poem that is not remarkable for some beauty. Some- 
times it is a tender recollection of the past ; again it is some weighty 
truth or telling apologue ; or it is a bit of irresistible pathos or 
prophetic assertion of divine truth. The poems were composed 
at intervals through many years, according to his usual method : — 

"Now, I've a notion, if a poet 
Beat up for themes, his verse will show it ; 
I wait for subjects that hunt me, 
By day or night won't let me be, 
And hang about me like a curse, 
Till they have made me into verse." 

477. Noteworthy Poems. — In " The First Snow-Fail " there 
is a fine touch of pathos : — 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 



271 



"Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her; 
And she, kissing back, could not know 
That my kiss was given to her sister, 
Folded close under deepening snow." 

The following triplet from " For an Autograph," is a noble 
summons to lofty purpose : — 

"Greatly begin ! though thou have time 
But for a Hne, be that sublime, — 
Not failure, but low aim, is crime." 

" Mahmood the Image-Breaker " teaches the incomparable 
worth of human integrity : — 

"Little were a change of station, loss of life or crown, 
But the wreck were past retrieving, if the Man fell down." 

478. Commemoration Odes. — The Commemoration Odes of 
Lowell are the best of their kind written in this country. Per- 
haps they have never been 
surpassed. He seized upon 
special occasions to pour 
forth a rich strain of patriotic 
reflection, eloquent thought, 
and poetic feeling and im- 
agery. The " Ode Recited at 
the Harvard Commemora- 
tion," in memory of the 
ninety-three graduates who 
had died in the Civil War, 
appealed most strongly to 
the poet's heart. Among 
those w^ho had lost their 
lives were eight relatives of 
the poet. As he recited the 
poem, it is said that his face, 
always expressive, was al- 
most transfigured with the " Washington Elm " at Cambridge 




272 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

glow of an inward light. Its exalted key is struck in the opening 
lines : — 

" Weak- winged is song, 
Nor aims at that clear-ethered height 
Whither the brave deed climbs for light : 

We seem to do them wrong, 
Bringing our robin's leaf to deck their hearse 
Who in warm life-blood wrote their nobler verse." 

The " Ode " read at the one hundredth anniversary of the 
fight at Concord bridge is an eloquent paean of freedom. It pays 
a glowing tribute to " the embattled farmers " : — 

"They were men 
Schooled the soul's inward gospel to obey, 
Though leading to the lion's den." 

" Under the Old Elm," read at Cambridge on the hundredth 
anniversary of Washington's taking command of the American 
army, eloquently commemorates the character and achievements 
of the " Father of his Country" : — 

"Out of that scabbard sprang, as from its womb, 
Nebulous at first but hardening to a star. 
Through mutual share of sunburst and of gloom. 
The common faith that made us what we are." 

479. " The Cathedral." — " The Cathedral " is Lowell's long- 
est poem. Somewhat uneven in its merits, it contains many 
noble passages. It might be made to illustrate nearly every 
prominent point in the poet's character. As compared with his 
earlier writings, it reveals the presence of a slightly conservative 
tendency. The leading incidents of the poem are connected with 
a visit to the cathedral of Chartres. He was filled with admira- 
tion at the consecrated spirit of a former age that sought expres- 
sion in such a miracle of stone : — 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 273 

"I gazed abashed, 
Child of an age that lectures, not creates, 
Plastering our swallow-nests on the awful Past,. 
And twittering round the work of larger men, 
As we had builded what we but deface." 

His deep religious nature is evident throughout the poem, 
though his creed is larger than that of his Puritan ancestors. 
Softened by the touch of an all-embracing sympathy and charity, 
he finds that — 

"God is in all that liberates and lifts, 
In all that humbles, sweetens, and consoles." 

480. Wilful Caprice. — In " The Cathedral " we have a strik- 
ing instance of the wilful caprice w^ith which his muse sometimes 
startles us. At the hotel in Chartres he met two Englishmen 
who mistook him for a Frenchman. 

"My beard translated me to hostile French; 
So they, desiring guidance in the town. 
Half condescended to my baser sphere. 
And, clubbing in one mess their lack of phrase, 
Set their best man to grapple with the Gaul. 
'Esker vous ate a nabitang?" he asked : 
'I never ate one; are they good?' asked I; 
Whereat they stared, then laughed, and we were friends." 

Considered in the most favorable light, the poet's w^it on this 
occasion can hardly be said to display particular brilliancy ; and 
to introduce the incident into a grave and elevated poem is a bit 
of freakishness that makes " the judicious grieve." 

481. Prose Writings. — Of Low^ell's prose writings, there is 
not space to speak in detail. The three volumes entitled " My 
Study Windows " and " Among My Books " (two volumes) are 
made up of essays. '' My Study Windows " is of greatest gen- 
eral interest. It opens with three delightful papers entitled " My 
Garden Acquaintance," " A Good Word for Winter," and " On a 



274 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Certain Condescension in Foreigners." In these the keen wit, 
kindly humor, and shrewd observation of Lowell appear at their 
best. Of his various garden acquaintance, to give a single quota- 
tion, he says : "If they will not come near enough to me (as most 
of them will), I bring them close with an opera glass, — a much 
better weapon than a gun. I would not, if I could, convert them 
from their pretty pagan ways. The only one I sometimes have sav- 
age doubts about is the red squirrel. I think he oologizes. I know 
he eats cherries (we counted five of them at one time in a single 
tree, the stones pattering down like the sparse hail that preludes 
a storm), and that he gnaws off the small ends of pears to get 
at the seeds. He steals the corn from under the noses of my 
poultry. But what would you have? He will come down upon 
the limb of the tree I am lying under till he is within a yard of me. 
He and his mate will scurry up and down the great black walnut 
for my diversion, chattering like monkeys. Can I sign his death- 
warrant who has tolerated me about his grounds so long? Not 
I. Let them steal, and welcome. I am sure I should, had I had 
the same bringing up and the same temptation. As for the birds, 
I do not believe there is one of them but does more good than 
harm ; and of how many featherless bipeds can this be said? " 

482. An Eminent Critic. — Lowell occupies a foremost place 
among American critics. For the critic's office he was eminently 
qualified, both by natural gifts and broad scholarship. The two 
volumes of " Among My Books " are devoted chiefly to elaborate 
studies of '' Dryden," " Shakespeare Once More," " Dante," 
" Spenser," " Wordsworth," " Milton," and " Keats." In each 
case a wide range of reading is made to contribute its treasures. 
The essays, supplied with numerous foot-notes, are learned to 
a degree that is almost oppressive. Lowell displays a deep insight 
and great soundness of judgment. His style is rich in allusion. 
At times it is epigrammatic; and again it is not unlike his own 
description of Milton's style. " Milton's manner," he says, ** is 
very grand. It is slow, it is stately, moving as in triumphal 
procession, with music, with historic banners, with spoils from 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 275 

every time and region ; and captive epithets, like huge Sicambrians, 
thrust their broad shoulders between us and the pomp they deco- 
rate." Now and then his humor lights up a sentence or paragraph 
in the most unexpected way. 

483. Diplomatic Career. — As a few other of our literary men, 
Lowell was appointed to represent this country abroad. His 
diplomatic career detracts nothing from his reputation. He was 
appointed minister to Spain in 1877, and three years later minister 
to England. Without any occasion to display great diplomatic 
gifts, he filled his post faithfully, and fostered international good 
feeling. In the social and literary circles of England his culture 
and genius gained for him a proud distinction. 

484. '^Democracy and Other Addresses." — Lowell was fre- 
quently called on for addresses. Among his works is a volume 
entitled '' Democracy and Other Addresses." He was not an 
orator so much as a refined and scholarly speaker. He spoke 
in an earnest, conversational tone, depending upon the weight 
of his utterance to secure the attention and interest of his hear- 
ers. He made no use of gesture. He did not soar to the heights 
of impassioned utterance, of which we must beUeve him to have 
been capable. He did not move a great popular assembly, but 
to the scholarly and cultivated he was a delightful speaker. 

485. Death. — Lowell lived beyond the allotted age of three 
score and ten. His latter years were sweetened by the tribute 
of honor and love which a great people united in paying him. He 
died Aug. 12, 1891, recognized at home and abroad as a man of 
high gifts and noble character. He is, perhaps, our best repre- 
sentative man of letters. An English critic has fairly expressed 
the feeling abroad : " No poetic note higher or deeper than his, 
no aspirations more firmly touched towards lofty issues, no voice 
more powerful for truth and freedom, have hitherto come to us 
from across the Atlantic." 



276 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

The annotated selections, pages 555-575, include " What Mr. 
Robinson Thinks,''^ " The Present Crisis,'' and " The Vision of Sir 
Launfal." 

In addition the student should read " An Incident in a Rail- 
road Car," '' A Glance behind the Curtain," " The First Snow- 
Fall," " For an Autograph," " A Fable for Critics," " Mahmood 
the Image-Breaker," ''The Courtin'," ''The Pious Editor's 
Creed," "Under the Old Elm," and "Commemoration Ode" 
from Lowell's poems ; from his prose, " My Garden Acquaint- 
ance," " A Good Word for Winter," and " Oh a Certain Conde- 
scension in Foreigners " — all from " My Study Windows." 

Horace E. Scudder's " James Russell Lowell," Edward Everett 
Hale's " Lowell and His Friends," and F. H. Underwood's " James 
Russell Lowell." 

For critical estimates consult the general bibliography and 
Poole's " Index," particularly W. D. Howells's " A Personal 
Retrospect," Scribner, September, 1900. E. C. Stedman's " Poets 
of America." 



JOHN GREEN LEAF WHITTIER 



486. The Burns of New 
England. — Whittier has been 
called the Burns of New Eng- 
land ; and that title is not 
without justification. He 
owed the first awakening of 
his poetic talent to the Scot- 
tish bard ; and, like him, he 
has cast a glory over the 
homely scenes of his native 
region. In the choice of his 
themes he is less a national 
than a sectional poet. Less 
cosmopolitan than Long- 
fellow and Lowell, he is pre- 
eminently the poet of New 
England. It is the spirit, 




John Greenleaf Whittier 



the legend, and the landscape of New England that are reflected 
in his verse. 

487. Ancestry and Early Home. — John Greenleaf Whittier 
sprang from Quaker ancestry, and the memory of the wrongs 
inflicted upon his sect at an earlier day never left him. He was 
born near the town of Haverhill, Mass., Dec. 17, 1807. The house 
was an old one, surrounded by fields and woods ; and in front 
of it, to use the poet's words, a brook '^ foamed, rippled, and 
laughed." The Merrimac River was not far away. He helped 
to till an unfriendly soil, and in his leisure hours he wandered over 
the hills or loitered along the streams. 

277 



278 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

488. A Self-Made Man. — Like Franklin, Whittier was a 
self-made man. His early education was limited to brief terms 
in the district school. He was fond of reading, but his father's 
library contained only a score of tedious volumes. For a number 
of years the Bible was his principal resource for history, poetry, 
and eloquence ; and encouraged and aided by his mother, he made 
its literary and religious treasures a permanent possession. 

489. Nature his Teacher. — In spite of the meagre advan- 
tages of his frugal home, as compared with our present opu- 
lence of books and papers, he had the wealth of exuberant 
life and observant eyes. Nature became his inspiring teacher. 
In '' The Barefoot Boy," with its childhood memories, he 
says : — 

"I was rich in flowers and trees. 
Humming-birds and honey-bees ; 
For my sport the squirrel played. 
Plied the snouted mole his spade ; 
For my taste the blackberry cone 
Purpled over hedge and stone ; 
Laughed the brook for my delight 
Through the day and through the night." 

490. Poetic Fire Lighted. — The monotony of the hospitable 
farmhouse was relieved now and then by the visits of peddlers. 
Strolling people were looked on more indulgently then than now. 
When Whittier was fourteen years old his first schoolmaster 
brought to the Quaker home a volume of Burns, from which he 
read, to the boy's great dehght. It kindled the poetic fire within. 
'' I begged him to leave the book with me," the poet said years 
afterwards, " and set myself at once to the task of mastering the 
glossary of the Scottish dialect at its close. This was about the 
first poetry I had ever read (with the exception of that of the Bible, 
of which I had been a close student), and it had a lasting influence 
upon me. I began to make rhymes myself, and to imagine stories 
and adventures." 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 



279 



491. Poet and Cobbler. — In 1826 Whittier made the acquaint- 
ance of William Lloyd Garrison, who exerted no small influence 
upon his subsequent career. Garrison had established the Free 
Press at Newburyport. A poem contributed by young Whittier 
so impressed him with its indications of genius that he visited 
the Quaker lad in his home, and warmly urged a cultivation of his 
talents. The visit was not fruitless. The gifted youth resolved 




VVhittier's Old Home, Haverhill, Massachusetts 

to obtain a better education ; and to acquire the necessary means, 
which his father was not able to supply, he learned the art of shoe- 
making. In 1827 he entered the Academy in Haverhill and by his 
genial nature and his hterary ability quickly attained a position 
of distinction. 

492. Newspaper Editing. — After two terms at the academy 
and a brief interval of teaching, he served an apprenticeship to 
the hterary craft by editing or contributing to several newspapers. 
His writings, both in prose and in poetry, attracted attention. 



28o AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Without the breadth of culture enjoyed by some contemporary 
writers who afterwards became famous, he came to be regarded as 
a young man of great promise. " The culmination of that man's 
fame," the New England Review declared in 1829, '' will be a proud 
period in the history of our Hterature." 

493. At Hartford. — A wider field soon opened before him. 
In 1830 George D. Prentice gave up the editorial management 
of the New England Weekly Review of Hartford, and Whittier 
was called to succeed him. For a year and a half he edited the 
paper with ability and success. He avoided the coarse person- 
aUties which at that time disgraced American journaHsm. He 
was a strong advocate of temperance, freedom, and religion. 
A resolute heart beat under his quiet manner and sober Quaker 
dress. He published in the Review no fewer than forty-two 
poems, most of which he afterwards suppressed. But among 
those retained in his collected works are " The Frost Spirit," 
''The Cities of the Plain," and "The Vaudois Teacher." In 
1832, on account of ill-health, Whittier severed his connection 
with the Review. 

494. Anti-Slavery Movement. — He took an earnest and active 
part in the anti-slavery movement. He surrendered his literary 
ambition to what he believed the call of duty. He displayed 
the self-sacrificing heroism of a sincere reformer. In his own 
words : — 

"From youthful hopes, — from each green spot 
Of young Romance and gentle Thought, 
Where storm and tumult enter not, — 

From each fair altar, where belong 

The offerings Love requires of Song 

In homage to her bright-eyed throng, — 

With soul and strength, with heart and hand, 
I turned to Freedom's struggling band, — 
To the sad Helots of our land." 



JOHX GREEN LEAF WHITTIER 281 

In 1833 he published a strong pamphlet against slavery, en- 
titled '' Justice and Expediency ; or, Slavery considered with a 
view to its Rightful and Effectual Remedy, Abolition." It 
was printed and circulated at his own expense, costing him a 
considerable part of his year's earnings. 

495. Mob Violence. — In his anti-slavery agitation he more 
than once encountered mob violence in Massachusetts and New 
Hampshire. In 1837 he went to Philadelphia to write for the 
Pennsylvania Freeman, of which he became editor a few months 
later. It was issued from Pennsylvania Hall, a large building 
erected by the anti-slavery people of the city. The building 
was subsequently sacked and burned by a mob. But in spite 
of his loss, VVhittier continued to issue his paper regularly, until 
he was forced to give up the enterprise by failing health. It was 
out of his own experience that he wrote in " The Preacher " : — 

"Never in custom's oiled grooves 
The world to a higher level moves, 
But grates and grinds with friction hard 
On granite boulder and flinty shard." 

496. '' Voices of Freedom." — Unlike his friend Garrison, Whit- 
tier favored political action. He wished to re-enforce moral 
suasion with the ballot. He stoutly supported the several politi- 
cal organizations known successively as the Liberty party, Free- 
Soil party, and Republican party, which were opposed to slavery. 
During all these years of agitation, he took advantage of every 
occasion to send forth impassioned anti-slavery verse. In 1849 
these poems were collected into a volume entitled '' Voices of 
Freedom." Their vehemence, as in '' Stanza," '' Clerical Oppres- 
sors," " The Pastoral Letter," and '' The Branded Hand," almost 
reaches fierceness. Though Longfellow and Lowell wrote notable 
anti-slavery poems, Whittier may justly be considered the laureate 
of the aboHtion movement. 

497. Literary Contributions. — While engaged in the anti- 
slavery movement, Whittier did not wholly give up his purely 



282 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

literary work. The family residence had been changed to Ames- 
bury, and he depended on his pen for support. He was a valued 
contributor to several periodicals, among which were the New 
England Magazine and the Democratic Review. In these some of 
his best work appeared. " Mogg Megone " and " The Bridal 
of Pennacook " are Indian tales, chiefly noteworthy for their vivid 
description of New England scenery. Of the former Whittier 
did not have a high opinion, and sarcastically described it as " a 
big Injun strutting about in Walter Scott's plaid," which is not 
far from the truth. " Cassandra Southwick " is a justly admired 
ballad founded on the persecution of the Quakers in Massachusetts. 
498. Intense Democracy. — Whittier was intensely democratic 
in his feeUngs. He did not believe in the divine right of any 
class to lord it over their fellow-men. Through all the disguises 
of toil, poverty, and sin, he recognized the innate worth and nat- 
ural rights of man. In the poem " Democracy " he says : — 

"By misery unrepelled, unawed 

By pomp or power, thou seest a man 
In prince or peasant, — slave or lord, — 
Pale priest, or swarthy artisan. 

Through all disguise, form, place, or name, 

Beneath the flaunting robes of sin, 
Through poverty and squalid shame. 

Thou lookest on the man within. 

On man, as man, retaining yet, 

Howe'er debased, and soiled, and dim. 

The crown upon his forehead set, — 
The immortal gift of God to him." 

499. " Songs of Labor." — In harmony with this broad human 
sympathy, he wrote a series of poems, unsurpassed of their kind, 
to which he gave the name of '' Songs of Labor." They are 
intended to show, — 

"The unsung beauty hid Hfe's common things below." 



J OH 2^ GREEN LEAF WHITTIER 283 

In these songs the labors of " The Shipbuilders," " The 
Shoe-makers," "The Drovers," "The Fishermen," "The 
Huskers," and " The Lumbermen," pass before us in idealized 
form. 

500. A Hidden Romance. — Whittier was never married. But 
little of his poetry is inspired by love, the master motive of song. 
Yet there are indications, unmistakable and tender, that his life 
was not without its romance. The Httle poem " In School Days " 
is too natural and too charming to have been fiction : — 

"He saw her lift her eyes; he felt 
The soft hand's light caressing, 
And heard the tremble of her voice, 
As if a fault confessing : 

'I'm sorry that I spelt the word ; 

I hate to go above you, 
Because' — the brown eyes lower fell, — 

'Because, you see, I love you.'" 

And in " Memories " we have a fond picture of a later day : — 

"1 hear again thy low replies, 
I feel thine arm within my own, 
And timidly again uprise 
The fringed lids of hazel eyes. 
With soft brown tresses overflown. 
Ah, memories of sweet summer eves, 
Of moonlit wave and willowy way, 
Of stars and flowers, and dewy leaves, 
And smiles and tones more dear than they." 

501. A Bard of Faith. — Whittier does not belong to the bards 
of doubt. Like most of the strong singers of the present century, 
he recognized the divine presence as existent and operative in all 
things. His verse is filled with the cheer of hope and courage. 
In " The Reformer " he says : — 



284 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"But life shall on and upward go ; 
Th' eternal step of Progress beats 
To that great anthem, calm and slow, 
Which God repeats. 

Take heart ! — the Waster builds again, — 

A charmed life old Goodness hath ; 
The tares may perish, — but the grain 

Is not for death. 

God works in all things ; all obey 

His first propulsion from the night : 
Wake thou and watch ! — the world is gray 

With morning Hght." 

It was this faith that sustained him in the midst of detraction, 
violence, and loss. In " Barclay of Ury," he exclaims : — 

''Happy he whose inward ear 
Angel comfortings can hear 

O'er the rabble's laughter ; 
And while Hatred's fagots burn, 
Glimpses through the smoke discern 

Of the good hereafter." 

502. Contributions to National Era. — For a dozen years 
Whittier was a regular contributor to the National Era, an organ 
of the anti-slavery party established in 1847. I^ this paper ap- 
peared some of his most characteristic work, both in poetry and 
prose. His muse had gained in breadth of thought and senti- 
ment. It was at this time he wrote : — 

"I love the old melodious lays 
Which softly melt the ages through, 

The songs of Spenser's golden days. 
Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase. 
Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew." 

Among the eighty poems contributed to the National Era, 
some of those needing special mention are " Tauler," " Burns," 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 285 

'' Kathleen," " Stanzas for the Times," '' Trust," '' A Sabbath 
Scene," '' Calef in Boston," '' The Last Walk in Autumn," '' Icha- 
bod," and " Maud MuUer." They reach the higher levels of song, 
and give gemlike expression to some noble thought or sentiment. 
" Ichabod," meaning, as Bible readers will remember, " the glory 
hath departed," is a dirge over Webster for the compromising spirit 
shown by him in in a speech in 1850. It is full of suppressed 
power. 

503. ''The Last Walk in Autumn." — '' The Last Walk in 
Autumn " is a beautiful study of New England landscape. It 
abounds in noble thought, and contains life-like portraits of 
Emerson, Bayard Taylor, and Sumner. At times, as the poet 
tells us, he longs for gentler skies and softer air; but after all he 
prefers the rigor of a colder clime : — 

** Better to stem with heart and hand 
The roaring tide of life, than lie, 
Unmindful, on its flowery strand, 
Of God's occasions drifting by ! 
Better with naked nerve to bear 
The needles of this goading air, 
Than, in the lap of sensual ease, forego 
The godlike power to do, the godlike aim to know." 

504. Prose Writing. — Among the prose contributions to the 
National Era was a series of biographical studies, " Bunyan," 
" Andrew Marvell," " Richard Baxter," and others, entitled 
" Old Portraits," and " Margaret Smith's Journal in the Province 
of Massachusetts Bay, 1678-9." The latter is a kind of his- 
torical novel, written in the antique style belonging to the period 
it describes. It introduces the leading characters and incidents of 
the time, and reproduces the old colonial life in a very realistic way. 

505. "Home Ballads." — In i860 appeared a volume of 
*' Home Ballads, Poems, and Lyrics," which contains a number 
of notable pieces. " Skipper Ireson's Ride," with its refrain and 
pathetic conclusion, is well known : — 



286 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

" So with soft relentings and rude excuse, 
Half scorn, half pity, they cut him loose, 
And gave him a cloak to hide him in. 
And left him alone with his shame and sin. 
Poor Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart. 
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart 
By the women of Marblehead." 

In " The Shadow and the Light " the poet seeks an answer 
to the immemorial problem of evil : — 

"0, why and whither? — God knows all; 
I only know that he is good. 
And that whatever may befall 
Or here or there, must be the best that could. 

For he is merciful as just ; 

And so, by faith correcting sight, 
I bow before his will, and trust, 
Howe'er they seem, he doeth all things right." 

506. Beauty of Labor. — In " Times," written for an agricul- 
tural and horticultural exhibition, the beauty and blessedness of 
labor are finely presented : — 

"Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; 
Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; 
Who sows a field, or trains a flower. 
Or plants a tree, is more than all. 

For he who blesses most is blest ; 

And God and man shall own his worth 
Who toils to leave as his bequest 

An added beauty to the earth." 

507. The Civil War. — The Civil War was repugnant to Whit- 
tier's Quaker principles. He looked on w^ar as murder; and his 
preference was to let the South secede, and work out her destiny 
as a slave-holding country. But he was not an indifferent specta- 



JOHX GREENLEAF WHITTIER 287 

tor when once the issue was joined. The collection of soijgs, 
" In War Time," is pervaded by a sad yet trustful spirit : — 

"The future's gain 
Is certain as God's truth ; but, meanwhile, pain 
Is bitter, and tears are salt ; our voices take 
A sober tone ; our very household songs 
Are heavy with a nation's griefs and wrongs; 
And innocent mirth is chastened for the sake 
Of the brave hearts that nevermore shall beat, 
The eyes that smile no more, the unreturning feet." 

He rejoiced at the freedom that at last came to the negro : — 

''Not as we hoped ; — but what are we? 
Above our broken dreams and plans 
God lays, with wiser hand than man's, 

The corner-stones of liberty." 

The best known of his war poems is " Barbara Frietchie," 
which vividly describes an incident that never happened. After 
the termination of the war, Whittier favored a magnanimous 
poHcy towards the South, and desired that there might be '' no 
unnecessary hangings to gratify an evil desire of revenge." 

508. ''Snow-Bound." — "Snow-Bound," a winter idyl, is an 
exquisite description of country life in New England two genera- 
tions ago. It portrays the early home of the poet, showing us 
its modest interior, and giving us portraits of its various inmates. 
After the boding storm had buried every object beneath the 

snow : — 

"A prompt, decisive man, no breath 

Our father wasted : 'Boys, a path ! '" 
At night the spacious fireplace was heaped with wood ; 

"Then, hovering near. 
We watched the first red blaze appear. 
Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam 
On whitewashed wall and sagging beam. 
Until the old, rude-furnished room 
Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom," 



288 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

509. Family Portraits. — Whittier's mother was a woman of 
good sense, native refinement, and benign face. Here is her 
portrait : — 

''Our mother, while she turned her wheel, 
Or run the new-knit stocking-heel, 
Told how the Indian hordes came down 
At midnight on Cocheco town, 
And how her own great-uncle bore 
His cruel scalp-mark to fourscore. 
Recalhng, in her fitting phrase, 
So rich and picturesque and free 
(The common unrhymed poetry 
Of simple life and country ways) , 
The story of her early days, — 
She made us welcome to her home." 

Another inmate is thus sketched : — 

"Our uncle, innocent of books, 
Was rich in lore of fields and brooks. 



In moons and tides and weather wise, 
He reads the clouds as prophecies. 
And foul or fair could well divine, 
By many an occult hint and sign, 
Holding the cunning-warded keys 
To all the woodcraft mysteries." 

The maiden aunt is tenderly drawn : — 

"The sweetest woman ever Fate 
Perverse denied a household mate, 
Who, lonely, homeless, not the less 
Found peace in love's unselfishness." 

Of his sister Mary the poet says : — 

"There, too, our elder sister plied 
Her evening task the stand beside ; 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 289 

A full, rich nature, free to trust, 
Truthful and almost sternly just, 
Impulsive, earnest, prompt to act. 
And make her generous thought a fact, 
Keeping with many a light disguise 
The secret of self-sacrifice." 

Of his sister Elizabeth, a noble woman of poetic gifts, he thus 

speaks : — 

"As one who held herself a part 

Of all she saw, and let her heart 

Against the household bosom lean, 

Upon the motley-braided mat 

Our youngest and our dearest sat, 

Lifting her large, sweet, asking eyes." 

Of other portraits and scenes in this admirable poem, which 
deserves to rank with " The Deserted Village " and " The Cotter's 
Saturday Night," there is not space to speak. 

510. " The Tent on the Beach." — '' The Tent on the Beach," 
published in 1867, somewhat resembles Longfellow's "Tales 
of a Wayside Inn," or Chaucer's " Canterbury Tales," in its 
structure. The poet and his two friends, Bayard Taylor and 
James T. Fields, encamping on the seashore, enliven their sojourn 
with tales of the olden time. The portraits of the party are skil- 
fully drawn, but most interesting of all is the poet's sketch of him- 
self:— 

"And one there was, a dreamer born, 

Who, with a mission to fulfil. 
Had left the Muses' haunts to turn 

The crank of an opinion mill. 
Making his rustic reed of song 
A weapon in the war with wrong, 
Yoking his fancy to the breaking plough 
That beam-deep turned the soil for truth to spring and grow." 

Of the nine stories related in " The Tent on the Beach," all but 
two refer to New England themes, 



290 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



511. Declining Years. — Though troubled with increasing 
infirmity, especially with deafness, Whittier wore old age grace- 
fully. He continued to write to the last. Many of his later 
poems are pervaded by a deep religious spirit. Several of them 
possess an autobiographic interest, as expressly setting forth the 
poet's views of God and immortality. A profound faith took 
away his dread of death; and in ''The Eternal Goodness" he 

says : — 

''And so beside the Silent Sea 
I wait the muffled oar ; 
No harm from Him can come to me 
On ocean or on shore. 

I know not where His islands Hft 

Their f ronded palms in air ; 
I only know I cannot drift 

Beyond His love and care," 

A similar trust finds expression in " My Birthday." It is 
repeated in the pathetic lines " What the Traveler Said at Sun- 
set " : — 

"The shadows grow and deepen round me, 
I feel the dew-fall in the air ; 
The muezzin of the darkening thicket, 
I hear the night-thrush call to prayer. 



I go to find my lost and mourned for 

Safe in Thy sheltering goodness still, 
And all that hope and faith foreshadow 

Made perfect in Thy holy will." 

512. Characteristics of his Poetry. — The leading character- 
istics of Whittier's poetry may be recognized in what has already 
been presented. We miss, for the most part, a classic finish of 
style. His verse is vital rather than statuesque. Sometimes 
we meet with false accents and faulty rhymes. He does not 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 291 

treat of the great questions started by modern research, nor under- 
take to solve existing social problems. From the start he takes 
his stand in the region of faith, which finds a solution of all prob- 
lems in the love of God. He loved nature; and while his obser- 
vation was confined chiefly to a part of New England, he has given 
us landscape pictures of almost matchless beauty. One of the 
charms of his verse comes from its sincerity. He was no mere 
artist in verse, seeking themes with prosaic calculation, and then 
polishing them into a cold, artificial lustre. With him poetry 
was not so much an end as a means. He used it as his principal 
weapon in his battle against wrong. He made it the medium 
of passionate truth. His verse has a vitality that brings it home 
to the hearts of men, inspiring them with new strength, courage, 
and hope. 

513. Personal Traits. — Modest to a marked degree, Whittier 
did not fully appreciate the grandeur of his life nor the worth of ■ 
his verse. He had the true dignity of a noble nature. While 
scorning notoriety, he valued genuine sympathy. The loving 
spirit of his verse was exemplified in his daily life. He was sym- 
pathetic and helpful. His friendships were constant and beautiful. 
In social life he had a kindly humor that rarely found a place in 
his earnest verse. His genius was not eccentric. He was a man 
of conviction of purpose, of courage. He preferred a life of 
earnest struggle to a life of ignoble ease, — a sentiment to which he 
gave expression in the beautiful autobiographic poem " My Birth- 
day " : — 

''Better than self-indulgent years 
The outflung heart of youth. 
Than pleasant songs in idle years 
The tumult of the truth." 

514. Closing Scene. — His last years, as was fitting, were 
serene. After many stormy years, he had at last won an honored 
place in the Hterature of our country, and, what is better, in the 
hearts of our people. The wisest and best delighted to do him 



292 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

honor. His home at Danvers, Mass., became a place of pilgrimage. 
After reaching a ripe old age, he passed away Sept. 7, 1892. In 
the slightly altered words of Longfellow, addressed to the " Her- 
mit of Amesbury " on his seventieth birthday : — 

"Thou too hast heard 
Voices and melodies from beyond the gates, 
And spoken only when thy soul was stirred." 

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

The annotated selections, pages 576-593, include '' Memories," 
'' The Ship-Builders," " Barclay of Ury," " Maud Muller," and 
" Tauler." 

In addition the student should read " The Barefoot Boy," 
'' The Preacher," " Democracy," " The Shoemakers," " In School 
Days," " The Reformer," '' Burns," '' A Sabbath Scene," '' Icha- 
bod," '' The Last Walk in Autumn," '' Skipper Ireson's Ride," 
'' Barbara Frietchie," " The Shadow and the Light," " The 
Eternal Goodness," and " Snow-Bound." 

Samuel T. Pickard's " Life and Letters of John Greenleaf 
Whittier " ; M. A. Kennedy's '' Life, Genius, and Writings of 
Whittier"; and F. H. Underwood's "John Greenleaf Whit- 
tier." 

For critical estimates consult the general bibUography and 
Poole's " Index," especially George Woodberry's review in The 
Atlantic, November, 1892 ; E. C. Stedman's " Poets of America," 
and Lowell's " Fable for Critics." 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 



515. Popularity of his 
Writings. — Holmes was the 
latest survivor of the re- 
markable group of writers 
who may be said to have 
created American literature. 
He was not the greatest of 
the group ; but there is 
scarcely any other whose 
works are more widely read. 
Under the present stress of 
life in America, there are 
very many persons who 
would rather be amused than 
instructed. When an author 
succeeds in both amusing 
and instructing, he has a 
double claim upon the grateful affection of the public. This 
twofold end Holmes achieved more fully than any of his contem- 
poraries. 

516. Independent Aloofness. — He stood aloof, in a remark- 
able degree, from the great movements in which the other New 
England writers of his day were more or less engaged. He had 
but Httle sympathy with transcendentalism. Instead of depend- 
ing upon an '' inner light," he placed his reliance, with true Baco- 
nian spirit, in obser\^ation, evidence, investigation. When, as 
rarely happened, he attempted to be profound in his speculations, 
he was not notably successful. Conservative in temperament, 

293 




Olivf.r Wendkll Holmes 



294 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



he did not aspire to the role of a social reformer. His indifTerence 
to the abolition movement brought upon him the censure of some 
of its leaders. Unswayed by external influences, he steadfastly 
adhered to the path he had marked out for himself. 

517. Brilliant Versatility. — He was one of the most brilliant 
and versatile of men. Though far more earnest than is com- 
monly supposed, he was not dominated, as was Emerson, by a 
profound philosophy. His poetry has not the power that springs 
from a great moral purpose. He did not concentrate all his 
energies upon a single department of Uterature or science. He 
was a physician, lecturer, poet, essayist, novelist ; and such were 
his brilhant gifts that he attained eminence in them all. 

518. Distrust of Men of Wit. — Right or wrong, most per- 
sons distrust the judgment and earnestness of a man of wit. Ac- 
customed to laugh at his play of fancy, they feel more or less 
injured when he talks in a serious strain. They seek his society 
for entertainment rather than for counsel. Holmes well under- 
stood this popular prejudice ; but he was far too faithful to his 
genius to affect a solemnity he did not feel. In his dehghtful 
poem " Nux Postcoenatica," he excuses himself from a public 
dinner : — 

"Besides — my prospects — don't you know that people won't employ 
A man that wrongs his manHness by laughing like a boy? 
And suspect the azure blossom that unfolds upon a shoot. 
As if wisdom's old potato could not flourish at its root?" 

519. A Believer in Heredity. — Holmes was a firm believer 
in heredity. No small part of his writings is devoted to a dis- 
cussion or illustration of inherited tendencies. Yet he did not 
take a special interest in his own ancestry, though they were of 
the best New England stock. He had, to use his own words, " a 
right to be grateful for a probable inheritance of good instincts, 
a good name, and a bringing up in a library where he bumped 
about among books from the time when he was hardly taller than 
one of his father's or grandfather's folios." He was born in Cam- 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 295 

bridge, Aug. 29, 1809; another annus ?nirabilis, it has been called, 
as the birth-year also of Lincoln, Darwin, Tennyson, and Glad- 
stone. His father, the Rev. Abiel Holmes, was a Congregational 
minister of scholarly tastes and attainments. His " Annals of 
America " is a careful and useful history. Holmes's mother is 
described as a bright, vivacious woman, of small figure, social 
tastes, and sprightly manners — characteristics that reappeared 
in the son. 

520. Autobiographical Notes. — In his '' Autobiographical 
Notes," only too brief and fragmentary, Holmes has given us 
glimpses of his childhood. He was a precocious child, thought- 
ful beyond his years. He made a good record at school, and was 
fond of reading. Among his favorite books was Pope's " Homer," 
which never lost its charm for him. His reading was fragmentary. 
'' I have always read /;/ books," he says, '' rather than through 
them, and always with more profit from the books I read in than 
the books I read through; for when I set out to read through a 
book I always felt that I had a task before me ; but when I read 
in a book it was the page or the paragraph that I wanted, and 
which left its impression, and became a part of my intellectual 
furniture." 

521. Class of '29. — After a preparatory course at Andover, 
Holmes entered Harvard College in 1825, graduating four years 
later in what became " the famous class of '29." There are scant 
records of his college days. Whatever may have been his devo- 
tion to study, it is certain that he was not indifferent to convivial 
pleasures. His talent for rhyming led to his appointment as 
class poet. The class feeling was stronger in those days than it 
is now; and, after a time, the " class of '29 " held annual dinners 
in Boston. Xo one entered into these reunions with greater 
zest than Holmes. Beginning with the year 1 851, he furnished 
for twenty-six consecutive years one or more poems for each 
reunion. The best known of these class poems is "Bill and 
Joe," which contains, in the poet's happiest manner, mingled 
humor and pathos: — 



296 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"Come, dear old comrade, you and I 
Will steal an hour from days gone by. 
The shining days when life was new, 
And all was bright with morning dew, 
The lusty days of long ago 
When you were Bill and I was Joe." 

522. Student of Medicine. — After graduation, Holmes began 
the study of law, and attended lectures for a year. But he found 
that he was on the wrong track, and gave it up for medicine. He 
attended two courses of lectures in Boston, and then went abroad 
to complete his course. He took time to do some sight-seeing, 
and visited England, Holland, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy. 
But he spent most of his two years abroad in Paris, where he gave 
himself diligently to professional study. He had exalted ideas 
of his profession — a little better than he carried out. '^ Medi- 
cine," he said, " is the most difficult of sciences and the most labori- 
ous of arts. It will task all your powers of body and mind, if you 
are faithful to it. Do not dabble in the muddy sewers of politics, 
nor linger by the enchanted streams of literature, nor dig in far- 
off fields for the hidden waters of alien sciences. The great practi- 
tioners are generally those who concentrate all their powers on 
their business." 

523. '' Old Ironsides." — There is an incident in his life while 
yet a law-student that must not be passed over. He had been 
writing for The Collegian a good many verses that were well re- 
ceived. Indeed, to borrow his phrase, he had become infected 
with the " lead-poisoning of type-metal." One day he read that 
the Navy Department had issued orders for the breaking up of 
the old frigate Constitution, then lying at Charleston. His soul 
was deeply stirred ; and, seizing a scrap of paper, he dashed off 
the passionate lines of " Old Ironsides " : — 

"Ay, tear her tattered ensign down I 
Long has it waved on high. 
And many an eye has danced to see 
That banner in the sky; 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 297 

Beneath it rang the battle shout, 

And burst the cannon's roar ; — 
The meteor of the ocean air 

Shall sweep the clouds no more!" 

The stirring words of the poem, copied in the press through- 
out the country, found a response in the heart of the people. 
Under the sudden blaze of indignation, the astonished Secretary 
revoked his order, and the gallant vessel was spared for half a 
century. The result was a remarkable achievement for a young 
man who had just attained his majority. 

524. Practising Physician. — In 1836 Holmes opened an ofBce 
in Boston as a practising physician. He was sympathetic, pains- 
taking, and conscientious ; and in a reasonable time he gained 
a fair practice. In spite of his fondness for literature, he continued 
his professional studies with unusual diligence and success. He won 
several prizes by medical essays. But his scholarly tastes fitted 
him better for a medical lecturer than for a practitioner; and in 
1838 he was much gratified to be elected Professor of Anatomy 
at Dartmouth College, — a position that required his presence 
there only three months of the session. 

525. First Volume of Verse. — The year he opened his office 
in Boston, he published his first volume of verse. From a pro- 
fessional standpoint it was, perhaps, an unwise thing to do. People 
are instinctively averse to going to poets for prescriptions. But 
he was far from indifferent to his reputation as a poet. As between 
the two, he would probably have chosen to go down to posterity 
famed for his gifts in poetry rather than for his skill in medicine. 
The slender volume contained several pieces that have since re- 
mained general favorites. His poetic powers matured early ; and, 
among all the productions of his subsequent years, there is nothing 
better than " The Last Leaf " — that inimitable combination of 
humor and pathos. One of its stanzas is a perfect gem : — 

*'The mossy marbles rest 
On the lips that he has prest 
In their bloom. 



298 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

And the names he loved to hear 
Have been carved for many a year 
On the tomb." 

His jolly humor nowhere else finds better expression than in 
" My Aunt," " The September Gale," and " The Height of the 
Ridiculous." 

526. A Worthy Helpmeet. — In 1840, the year his connection 
with Dartmouth College ceased. Holmes thought himself well 
enough established to end his bachelorhood. His tastes were 
strongly domestic. Accordingly, he married Miss Amelia Lee 
Jackson, a gentle, afTectionate, considerate woman, who appreci- 
ated her husband's talents, and, with a noble devotion, helped 
him to make the most of them. For nearly fifty years her delicate 
tact shielded him from annoyances, and her skilful management 
relieved him of domestic cares. 

527. Professor in Harvard. — In 1847 Holmes was elected 
Professor of Anatomy and Physiology in Harvard University. 
The chair was afterwards divided, and he had charge of anatomy. 
H'e held this position for the long period of thirty-five years. 
He recognized the danger of falling into an unprogressive routine. 
" I have noticed," he wrote to a friend, " that the wood of which 
academic fauteuils are made has a narcotic quality, which occa- 
sionally renders their occupants somnolent, lethargic, or even 
comatose." But he escaped this danger; and, taking a deep 
interest in his department, he remained a wide-awake, progressive 
teacher to the end. His lectures were illuminated with a corus- 
cating humor that made them peculiarly interesting. 

528. A Popular Lecturer. — About the middle of the century 
the popular lecture was in great vogue in New England. Men of 
distinguished ability did not disdain this means of disseminating 
wisdom and replenishing their pockets. Like Emerson, Holmes 
made lecturing tours. Though not imposing in person nor gifted 
in voice, he was much sought after for his unfailing vivacity and 
wit. In the " Autocrat " he makes a humorous reference to his 



OLtVER WENDELL HOLMES 299 

experience as a lecturer. " Family men," he says, "get dreadfully 
homesick. In the remote and bleak village the heart returns to 
the red blaze of the logs in one's fireplace at home. 

'There are his young barbarians all at play.' 

No, the world has a million roosts for a man, but only one nest." 

529. ''Autocrat of the Breakfast Table." — The founding of 
The Atlantic Monthly^ the name of which he suggested, was an 
important event in the life of Holmes. He was engaged to write 
for it ; and the result was " The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table," 
perhaps the best of all his works. He here revealed himself as a 
charming writer of prose. The " Autocrat " talks delightfully 
on a hundred difTerent subjects, presenting with a careless grace 
and irrepressible humor the accumulated wisdom of years of ob- 
servation and study. Nothing is too small or too great for his 
reflections. " There are few books," as George William Curtis 
well said, " that leave more distinctly the impression of a mind 
teeming with riches of many kinds. It is, in the Yankee phrase, 
thoroughly wide-awake. There is no languor, and it permits 
none in the reader, who must move along the page warily, lest in 
the gay profusion of the grove unwittingly defrauding himself 
of delight, he miss some flower half-hidden, some gem chance- 
dropped, some darting bird." 

530. Poems of the "Autocrat." — Interspersed through the 
brilliant talk of the " Autocrat " are nearly a score of poems, 
partly humorous and partly serious. Several of these rank among 
the poet's choicest productions. A special charm is given to each 
poem by its setting. " The Chambered Nautilus " was Holmes's 
favorite among all his poems. " Booked for immortality " was 
Whittier's criticism the moment he read it. The last stanza gives 
beautiful expression to the aspiration of a noble spirit : — 

"Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul. 
As the swift seasons roll ! 
Leave thy low-vaulted past ! 



300 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Let each new temple, nobler than the last, 
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast. 

Till thou at length art free, 
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea." 

The humorous poem " Contentment " embodied, as he tells us, 
" the subdued and limited desires of his maturity " : — 

"Little I ask ; my wants are few ; 

I only wish a hut of stone, 
(A very plain brown stone will do,) 

That I may call my own; — 
And close at hand is such a one. 

In yonder street that fronts the sun." 

Other poems from the '' Autocrat " deserving special mention 
are '' Musa," '' What We All Think," '' Latter-Day Warnings," 
" Estivation," and, above all these, '' The Deacon's Master- 
piece." 

531. The Saturday Club. — About the time the Atlantic was 
founded, the Saturday Club came into existence, and numbered 
among its members Emerson, Hawthorne, Longfellow, Lowell, 
Whittier, Motley, Agassiz, and other distinguished literary men 
of Boston and Cambridge. They dined together the last Sat- 
urday of every month. A more brilliant club had not existed 
since the days of Johnson and Goldsmith. Holmes took great 
pride in it, and added greatly to its festive meetings. He was 
a prince of talkers. His wise, wdtty, genial, vivacious talk is 
said to have been even better than his books. He called talk- 
ing " one of the fine arts." He probably had the Saturday Club 
in mind when, in the " Autocrat," he defined an intellectual 
banquet as " that carnival-shower of questions and replies and 
comments, large axioms bowled over the mahogany like bomb- 
shells from professional mortars, and explosive wit dropping its 
trains of many-colored fire, and the mischief-making rain of bon- 
bons pelting everybody that shows himself." 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 301 

532. Laureate of Boston. — Holmes was strongly attached to 
Boston, and was really its poet laureate. He playfully said that 
the " Boston State House is the hub of the solar system," and in 
his heart half believed it. He received a proud and affectionate 
recognition from the city. He was expected to grace every great 
festive occasion with his presence, and to contribute a poem to 
its enjoyment. The number of these occasional pieces is surpris- 
ing ; they form no inconsiderable part of his poetical works. Of 
their kind they are unsurpassed. Year after year Holmes met the 
demand upon him with unfailing freshness and vigor. But it 
goes without saying that vers de societe does not belong to the 
highest order of poetry. ^ It does not sound the deeper notes of 
song, nor entitle the poet, no matter how brilliant may be his 
verse, to rank with those '' to whom poetry, for its own sake, has 
been a passion and belief." 

533. Theological Interest. — Holmes was strongly drawn to 
theological subjects. It may be true, as has been suggested, 
that he inherited " ecclesiastical pugnacity " ; but it was not ex- 
ercised in defending the ecclesiastical beliefs and institutions of 
his ancestors. A theological thread runs through nearly all his 
prose writings; and his uniform antipathy to what he believed 
to be erroneous creeds does more than anything else to give them 
unity. Yet at heart he was a religious man. His anchor was 
" trust in God." He held to the doctrine of immortahty. He 
looked upon this world as a training-school. In his " Auto- 
biographical Notes," written in his old age, he says : '' This colony 
of the universe is an educational institution so far as the human 
race is concerned. On this theory I base my hopes for myself 
and my fellow-creatures. If, in the face of all the so-called evil 
to which I cannot close my eyes, I have managed to retain a cheer- 
ful optimism, it is because this educational theory is at the basis 
of my working creed." 

534. " The Professor at the Breakfast Table." — " The Profes- 
sor at the Breakfast Table," published in 1859, is devoted chiefly 
to a discussion of theological subjects. Whatever may be thought 



302 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

of the '' Professor's " views, there can be no question about the 
confidence and skill with which they are presented. The dramatis 
personae, if one may use the phrase, are interesting ; and the death- 
scene of the Little Gentleman is the most pathetic incident in all 
Holmes's writings. Judged from an artistic standpoint, the 
'' Professor " is somewhat below the " Autocrat." It is less spon- 
taneous, being written largely, one might think, to relieve the 
author's mind of a theological burden. Or, to borrow his own 
words, " The first juice that runs of itself from the grapes comes 
from the heart of the fruit, and tastes of the pulp only ; when the 
grapes are squeezed in the press, the flow betrays the flavor of the 
skin." 

535. " The Poet at the Breakfast Table." — The third and last 
of the Breakfast Table series was ^' The Poet at the Breakfast 
Table," which appeared in 1873. It is hazardous to attempt to 
repeat successes; but the result justified what Holmes called his 
audacity. The " Poet " is a little more serious than his pred- 
ecessors; but while he is perceptibly inferior to them in novelty 
and vivacity, he is still delightful. The volume contains in suc- 
cessive cantos " Wind-Clouds and Star-Drifts," Holmes's long- 
est and most ambitious poem. " This poem," he says, " holds 
a good deal of self-communing, and gave me the opportunity of 
expressing some thoughts and feelings not to be found elsewhere 
in my writings." Shall we accept the creeds of " sad-eyed her- 
mits " and '' angry conclaves "? 

''Ah, not from these the listening soul can hear 
The Father's voice that speaks itself divine ! 
Love must be still our Master ; till we learn 

" What he can teach us of a woman's heart, 
We know not His, whose love embraces all." 

536. Two "Medicated Novels." — Holmes's two principal 
novels, " Elsie Venner " which appeared in 186 1, and " The Guard- 
ian Angel " which appeared in 1867, belong to the class of fiction 
with a purpose. The first was designed to illustrate the effects 



OLIVER W EX DELL HOLMES 303 

of a powerful pre-natal influence ; the other, the law of heredity. 
They have been spoken of, much to the author's chagrin, as " medi- 
cated novels. " The scenes are laid in New England, the manners of 
which are portrayed with graphic realism. These novels have 
been criticised as crude in form ; but, in spite of defect in plot, 
they have been widely read. They will, no doubt, be less read as 
interest in their main theme declines ; but " The Guardian Angel," 
the better of the two books, will long be deservedly popular for 
its humor and wisdom. 

537. Writer of Biographies. — Holmes did not have much 
confidence in the biographer's art. '' I should Hke to see," he 
says in " The Poet at the Breakfast Table," '' any man's biography 
with corrections and emendations by his ghost." But, in spite 
of this distrust, he wrote two popular biographies, one of Motley, 
the other of Emerson. Motley was one of his most intimate 
friends; and it was not unnatural, therefore, that the biography, 
which was published in 1878, should bear somewhat the character 
of a tribute. His temperament hardly qualified him for writing 
the life of Emerson. He was not inclined toward transcendentalism ; 
and, as he acknowledged, he was *' a late comer as an admirer of 
the Concord poet and philosopher." But, as in all his writings, 
he gave himself conscientiously to the task. A keen analytical 
spirit took the place of a profound sympathy. The biography, 
which appeared in 1884, is more satisfactory to the general public 
than to the students of Emerson. It is interesting, and at times 
brilliant ; but somehow one feels the absence of a perfectly sym- 
pathetic treatment. 

538. Visit to England. — In 1882, after an incumbency of 
thirty-five years, he resigned his professorship. Four years 
later he made a visit abroad, spending nearly all his time in Eng- 
land. He was warmly received in London society. ''He is 
enjoying himself immensely," wrote Lowell, " and takes as keen 
interest in everything as he would have done at twenty. I almost 
envy him this freshness of genius. Everybody is charmed with 
him, as it is natural they should be." He was honored by the 



304 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

universities of Edinburgh, Cambridge, and Oxford with degrees. 
The observations of his brief stay abroad he embodied in " Our 
Hundred Days in Europe." 

539. "Over the Teacups." — Though now considerably be- 
yond the allotted limit of human life. Holmes did not give up his 
literary work. In addition to the biography of Emerson, he wrote 
a third novel, " A Mortal Antipathy," which fell considerably 
below his previous efforts in that line. " Over the Teacups," a 
work after the manner of the Breakfast Table series, was written 
when he had passed his eightieth year. It possesses a pathetic 
interest. The exuberant wit and brilliancy of his earlier works 
are largely replaced by the reminiscent soberness of age. " Tea- 
cups," he said, '' are not coffee-cups. They do not hold so much. 
Their pallid infusion is but a feeble stimulant compared with the 
black decoction served at the morning board." Yet it was a 
pleasure for him to write ; it gave him occupation in the loneliness 
of age, and kept him in relation with his fellow-beings. The suc- 
cessive papers were kindly received, a fact that gave him great 
satisfaction. " Over the Teacups " contains " The Broomstick 
Train," a poem in which the old-time fancy and lightness are 
again apparent. It is not unworthy to be placed by the side of 
" How the Old Horse Won the Bet," " Grandmother's Story of 
Bunker Hill Battle," and other of his best pieces. 

540. Last Years. — But the end was now near, not unheralded 
by gently failing faculties. His last days were made as happy 
as possible by the affectionate remembrance and tender considera- 
tion of a large circle of friends. He was spared the trial of pro- 
tracted illness. He was able to take his usual walks up to a few 
days before his death. He passed away painlessly in his chair, 
Oct. 7, 1894. Numberless loving tributes were paid to his memory 
on both sides of the Atlantic. 

541. Personal Characteristics. — Holmes was an interesting 
and lovable man, genial, brilliant, witty, and yet deeply earnest 
withal. His personality is reflected in his books in a rare degree. 
Whatever the presiding genius at the Breakfast Table may be 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 305 

called, — Autocrat, Professor, Poet, — we know that it is Holmes 
himself that is speaking. 

"For though he changes dress and name, 
The man beneath is still the same, 
Laughing or sad, by fits and starts, 
One actor in a dozen parts, 
And whatsoe'er the mask may be, 
The voice assures us, This is he.'^ 

He might be called the most human of our men of letters. He 
delighted in touching life at many points. He had the gift of 
mechanical ingenuity, and always liked to have something to 
tinker at. He invented the stereoscope, out of which, had he 
sought to do so, he might have made a fortune. He was fond 
of boating ; and the description he gives of his fleet in the " Auto- 
crat," was not all fiction. He was fond of a good horse; as he 
said, — 

"An easy gait — two, forty-five — 
Suits me ; I do not care ; — 
Perhaps for just a single spurt, 
Some seconds less would do no hurt." 

542. Broad Sympathies. — He felt a broad sympathy with his 
fellow-men ; and, as he felt kindly towards them, he took it for 
granted that they would be interested in what he wrote. " I 
do not know," he said, " what special gifts have been granted 
or denied me; but this I know, that I am like so many others 
of my fellow-creatures, that when I smile, I feel as if they must ; 
when I cry, I think their eyes fill; and it always seems to me 
that when I am most truly myself, I come nearest to them, and 
am surest being listened to by the brothers and sisters of the 
larger family into which I was born so long ago." This broad 
and tender sympathy will long give him an uncommon hold on 
the hearts of men. 



3o6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY 

The annotated selections, pages 594-608, include " Old Iron- 
sides,'' " The Last Leaf,'' " The Height of the Ridiculous," " The 
Chambered Nautilus," " Contentment," and " The Deacon's Mas- 
terpiece." 

In addition the student should read " My Aunt," '^ The Sep- 
tember Gale," " Dorothy Q., " " Bill and Joe," " Latter Day 
Warnings," ^' Estivation," " Homesick in Heaven," " The 
Broomstick Train," '' How the Old Horse Won the Bet," ''Grand- 
mother's Story of Bunker Hill Battle " from Holmes's poems. 

Of his prose works " The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table " 
and " The Guardian Angel " are recommended. 

John T. Morse's " Life and Letters of Oliver Wendell Holmes " 
(2 vols.) ; W. S. Kennedy's " Oliver Wendell Holmes." 

For critical estimates consult the general bibliography and 
Poole's " Index." Edward Everett Hale's " Lowell and His 
Friends " ; E. C. Stedman's " Poets of America." 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 



PROMINENT WRITERS 



Lyman Abbott. Born in Massachusetts in 1835. A clergyman, editor, and 
author of large influence. Editor of The Outlook, and author of various 
rehgious books of liberal spirit, among which are "Jesus of Nazareth," 
"A Study in Human Nature," "In Aid of Faith," "Evolution of Christian- 
ity," "Christianity and Social Problems," "The Life arid Literature of the 
Ancient Hebrews," etc. 

Henry Adams. Bom in Massachusetts in 1838. Editor North American 
Review, 1870-1876. Historical writer. Author of "Life and Writings 
of Albert Gallatin," "John Randolph," "Historical Essays," etc. 

George Ade. Born in Indiana in 1866. A witty and satirical writer. Author 
of numerous popular stories and plays including "People You Knew," 
"Breaking into Society," "The College Widow," and "Fables in Slang." 

Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888). One of our best writers for young people. 
Author of "Little Men," "An Old-Fashioned Giri," "Eight Cousins," 
"Under the Lilacs," etc. 

Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836-1909). Born in New Hampshire. A writer 
of interesting stories and polished lyric verse. Editor of various periodi- 
cals, including The Atlantic Monthly. Author of "The Ballad of Babie 
Bell and Other Poems," "Poems," "The Story of a Bad Boy," "Marjorie 
Daw, and Other People," "Prudence Palfrey," "The Stillwater Tragedy," 
etc. (See text.) 

James Lane Allen., Born in Kentucky in 1849. At one time professor in 
Bethany College, West Virginia, but since 1886 has given himself to litera- 
ture. Among his works, two or three of which have been quite popular, are 
"Flute and Violin," "A Kentucky Cardinal," "A Summer in Arcady," 
"The Choir Invisible," "The Reign of Law," "The Mettle of the Pasture," 
etc. 

Gertrude F. Atherton. Bom in California, 1859. Has lived abroad much 
of the time. Among her numerous works are "American Wives and 
English Husbands," "The Califomians," "The Conqueror," "Rulers of 
Kings," and " Julia France and Her Times." 

Jane Goodwin Austin (i 831-1894). Much of her life was spent in Boston. A 

307 



3o8 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

writer of historical fiction dealing especially with the colonial period. Author 
of the following novels: "Standish of Standish," "Betty Alden," "The 
First-Born Daughter of the Pilgrims," "The Shadow of Moloch Moun- 
tain," "The Desmond Hundred," etc. 

Irving Bacheller. Born in New York, 1859. Actively connected with the 
press of New York for years. Novelist whose best known book is "Eben 
Holden." Also author of "Silas Strong," "VergiHus," "The Master," 
"Keeping Up with Lizzie," etc. 

John Kendrick Bangs. Born in New York, 1862. Editor at different times 
of Harper^s Magazine, Metropolitan Magazine, Puck, etc. Author of a 
great many humorous, imaginative, and popular works of fiction, among 
which may be mentioned " Tiddledywinks Tales," "A House Boat on the 
Styx," "The Pursuit of the House Boat," "Ghosts I Have Met," "Olym- 
pian Nights," "Proposal Under Difficulties" (farce), "Songs of Cheer," 
and " Tomorrowland " (a musical fantasy). 

Amelia Edith Barr. Born in Ulverston, Lancashire, England, in 1831. 
Novehst. Among 66 novels may be mentioned "Jan Vedder's Wife," 
"Remember the Alamo," and "Between Two Loves." 

Arlo Bates. Born in Maine in 1850. Educator, essayist, and novelist. 
Author of "A Wheel of Fire," "Sonnets in Shadow," "A Book o' Nine 
Tales," "Talks on Teaching Literature," and numerous others. 

Rex Beach. Born in Michigan in 1877. Author of realistic novels dealing 
with conditions in the Klondike, among which may be mentioned "The 
Spoilers," "The Iron Trail," etc. 

Henry Ward Beecher (1813-1887). A native of Connecticut. Famous Con- 
gregational clergyman and lecturer. Author of "Eyes and Ears," "Lec- 
tures to Young Men," "Speeches on the American Rebellion," etc. 

Ambrose Bierce. Bom in Ohio, 1842. Civil War veteran, journalist, and 
author. The following titles are suggestive of his work : "Cobwebs from 
an Empty Skull," "Fantastic Fables," "The Shadow on the Dial, and 
Other Essays," and "Write It Right." 

Josh Billings. See Henry W. Shaw. 

George Henry Boker (1823-1890). A native of Philadelphia. Poet, dip- 
lomat, and dramatist. Author of "Poems of War," "The Book of the 
Dead" (poems), and of the tragedies "Calaynos," "Francesca da Rimini," 
etc. 

Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen (1848-1895). A native of Norway, but for many 
years a professor in Columbia College. A scholar, novelist, poet, and his- 
torian. Author of " Gunnar," " A Norseman's Pilgrimage," " Falconberg," 
"Goethe and Schiller," "The Story of Norway," "Idyls of Norway, and 
Other Poems." 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 309 

Alice Brown. Born in New Hampshire in 1857, One of the best known 
short story- writers of i\merica. Author of " Meadow-Grass " (New 
England stories), "The Mannerings," "Rose MacLeod," "Country- 
Neighbors" (stories), and numerous others. 

Charles Farrar Browne (" Artemus Ward") (1834-1867). A humorist and 
lecturer, whose humor was grotesque and whose satire was good-natured. 
Author of "Artemus Ward: His Book," "Artemus Ward among the 
Mormons," "Artemus Ward in London," etc. 

Henry Cuyler Bunner (1855-1896). A New York journalist, editor of 
Puck, and writer of graceful verse and readable fiction. Author of "Love 
in Old Cloathes," "The Story of a New York House," "Short Sixes" 
(a collection of humorous tales), "Airs from Arcady and Elsewhere," etc. 

Robert J. Burdette (1844-1914). A native of Pennsylvania. A newspaper 
humorist who was for some years editor of The Hawkeye, Burlington Iowa. 
Author of "Hawkeyetems," "Rise and Fall of The Mustache," "Innach 
Garden, and Other Comic Sketches," and "Life of William Pfenn." 

Frances Hodgson Burnett. Born in Manchester, England, in 1849. A 
magazine writer and novehst of excellent gifts. Author of "That Lass 
o' Lowrie's," "Ha worth's," "Through One Administration," "Little Lord 
Fauntleroy," "Sara Crewe," "In Connection with the Willoughby Claim," 
etc. 

Clara Louise Burnham. Bom in Massachusetts, 1845. Poet and noveUst. 
Author of "Dr. Latimer," "A West Point Wooing," "The Inner Flame," 
etc. 

John Burroughs. Born in New York in 1837. An essayist whose sympathetic 
studies of nature have made him popular. Author of "Wake Robin," 
"Birds and Poets," "Winter Sunshine," "Indoor Studies," "Squirrels and 
Other Fur Bearers," etc. 

George W. Cable. Born in Louisiana in 1844. -'^ distinguished novelist of 
Creole life. Author of " Old Creole Days," " The Grandissimes," " Madame 
Delphine," "Dr. Sevier," "John March, Southerner," etc. (See text.) 

Will Carleton (1845-1912). A native of Michigan. Author, lecturer, and 
editor. A writer of homely verse, in which the story often takes the place 
of poetic inspiration. Author of "Farm Ballads," "Farm Legends," 
"Farm Festivals," "City BaUads," "Rhymes of Our Planet," etc. 

Bliss Carman. Bom in New Brunswick in 186 1. A poet and journalist. 
Author of "Low Tide on Grand Pre," "A Sea-mark," "Behind the Arras," 
"Ballads of Lost Haven," "Songs from Vagabondia," "The Vengeance of 
Noel Brassard." 

Alice Cary (1820-1871) and Phcebe Cary (1824-1871) were born in Ohio 
but spent the latter part of their lives in New York. The former was 



3IO AMERICAN LITERATURE 

poet and novelist ; she wrote "Lyra, and Other Poems," "Ballads, Lyrics, 
and Hymns," "Pictures of Country Life," "Hagar," "Married, not 
Mated," etc. The latter wrote "Poems and Parodies," "Poems of Faith, 
Hope, and Love." 

Mary H. Catherwood (1847-1902). A native of Ohio. Writer of careful 
historical romances dealing with the early days of Canada and the North- 
west. Author of " A Woman in Armour," " The Spirit of an Illinois Town," 
"Old Caravan Days," etc. 

Madison Julius Cawein (1865-1914). A native of Kentucky. One of the 
best of recent American lyrists. Author of "Bloom of the Berry," 
"Lyrics and Idyls," "Poems of Nature and Love," "The Garden of 
Dreams," "Shapes and Shadows," etc. 

Robert W. Chambers. Born in New York, 1865. Artist, and author of many 
popular novels. He has debased a fine talent to the writing of sensuous 
fiction. Among many works may be mentioned "Ashes of Empire," 
"The Fighting Chance," "The Firing Line," "The Green Mouse," and 
"The Witch of EUangowan" (a drama). 

George Randolph Chester. Born in Ohio, 1869. Journalist and story- 
writer. Author of the popular Wallingford stories. Has written "Get- 
Rich-Quick Wallingford," "The Cash Intrigue," " WaUingford and Blackie 
Daw, " and a number of others. 

John Vance Cheney. Born in New York, 1848. Author of " The Old Doctor," 
"That Dome in Air" (essays), "Out of the Silence" (poems), "At the Silver 
Gate" (poems), etc. 

Winston Churchill. Born in Missouri in 187 1. One of our most represen- 
tative American novelists. His "Inside of the Cup" has been widely read 
and discussed. Author of "Richard Carvel" and "The Crisis," two 
popular historical novels, also "Mr. Crewe's Career," "Coniston," etc. 

James Freeman Clarke (i 810-1888). An able Unitarian clergyman of 
Boston. Among his numerous works are "Orthodoxy: its Truths and 
Errors," "Ten Great Religions," "Self-Culture," and "Every-Day Re- 
ligion," the last two being especially helpful. 

Samuel L. Clemens ("Mark Twain") (1835-1910). Born in Missouri. 
Miner and journalist in Nevada until his popularity as a humorist turned 
him to lecturing and authorship. The most popular, though not the most 
delicate, of our humorists. Author of "The Innocents Abroad," "Rough- 
ing It," "Adventures of Tom Sawyer," "A Tramp Abroad," "The Ad- 
ventures of Huckleberry Finn," "A Connecticut Yankee at King Arthur's 
Court," "Joan of Arc," etc. (See text.) 

Rose Terry Cooke (1827-1892). Born in Connecticut. A writer of both 
prose and verse, her short stories being particularly excellent. Author of 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 31 1 

"Happy Dodd," "Somebody's Neighbors," "The Sphinx's Children and 
Other People's," "Poems," etc. 

Charles Egbert Craddock. See Mary N. Murfree. 

Pearl Mary-Teresa Craigie ("John Oliver Hobbes") (1867-1906). A 
native of Boston. Among her varied works are " A Study in Temptations," 
"The Herb Moon," "School for Saints" (both novels), "Tales about Tem- 
peraments," "The Wisdom of the Wise" (play), and many others. 

Christopher P. Cranch (1813-1892). A native of Virginia. Artist and 
transcendental poet. Author of "Thought," "The Bird and the Bell, and 
Other Poems," "Satan, a Libretto," etc. 

Stephen Crane (1870-1900). A popular New York novelist. Author of 
"George's Mother," "The Black Riders and Other Lives" (verse), "The 
Red Badge of Courage" (romance of the Civil War in America), and 
"Maggie." 

Francis Marion Crawford (1854-1909). Born in Italy, the son of an 
American sculptor. Studied at Harvard and at universities abroad. He 
resided in Italy. A proHfic and popular novelist; author of "Mr. Isaacs," 
"A Roman Singer," and the Saracinesca trio (including "Saracinesca," 
"Sanf Ilario," and "Don Orsino"), "Via Crucis," etc. 

Richard Henry Dana, Jr. (1815-1882). A native of Massachusetts. Author 
of the famous "Two Years Before the Mast," a narrative of personal ad- 
venture, which was adopted officially by the British Admiralty for circu- 
lation in the navy. His other works include "To Cuba and Back," "Life 
of Major Vinton," and several others. 

Richard Harding Davis (1864-19 16). A native of Philadelphia. A novelist 
and journalist; prominent as newspaper correspondent in the war with 
Spain. Author of "Soldiers of Fortune," "Gallagher, and Other Stories," 
"ThePrincess Aline," "Van Bibber and Others," "The King's Jackal," 
"Episodes in Van Bibber's Life," "With Both Armies in South Africa," 
etc. 

Margaret Wade Deland, Bom in Pennsylvania in 1857, but has Hved in 
Boston since 1880. A writer of novels and poems. "The Awakening of 
Helena Richie" had a wide circulation, and her novels in general have been 
deservedly popular. Author of "John Ward, Preacher," "The Old Garden 
and Other Verses," "Phihp and his Wife," "The Wisdom of Fools," "Old 
Chester Tales," "The Iron Woman," etc. 

Thomas Dixon. Born in North Carolina in 1864. Lawyer, minister, novelist, 
and playwright. His novels portraying conditions in the South after the 
Civil War are overdrawn and sensational, but have been widely read. 
Author of "The Leopard's Spots," "The One Woman," "The Clansman," 
"The Sins of the Father," etc. 



312 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Mary A. Dodge (" Gail Hamilton") (1838-1896). A native of Massachusetts, 
whose pungent style made her writings popular. Author of "A New At- 
mosphere," "Woman's Wrongs," "Sermons to the Clergy," "Woman's 
Worth and Worthlessness," "Biography of James G. Blaine," etc. 

Mary Mapes Dodge (1838-1905). A New York writer of poems and stories 
for young people, for many years editor of Saint Nicholas. The following 
works may be mentioned : "Donald and Dorothy," "Rhymes and Jingles," 
"The Land of Pluck," "When Life is Young," "Theophilus and Others," 
and "Hans Brinker," the last a little classic, which has been translated 
into French, German, Dutch, and other languages. 

Mr. Dooley. See Finley Peter Dunne. 

Paul Lawrence Dunbar (187 2-1 906). Born in Ohio. A verse- writer of 
African descent, best known for his "Lyrics of Lowly Life." 

Finley Peter Dunne ("Mr. Dooley"). Born in Chicago in 1867. Journalist 
and humorist, famous as the creator of Mr. Dooley. Author of "Mr. 
Dooley's Opinions," "Observations by Mr. Dooley," etc. 

Henry Van Dyke. Born in Pennsylvania in 1852. Presbyterian clergyman, 
professor of English literature at Princeton, poet, essayist, minister to 
Holland. Author of "The Reality of Religion," "The Poetry of Tenny- 
son," "The Other Wise Man," "The Gospel for an Age of Doubt," "The 
Toiling of Felix, and Other Poems," "The Blue Flower," etc, 

Edward Eggleston (1837-1903). A native of Indiana. A Methodist min- 
ister and author. Author of "The Hoosier Schoolmaster," "The End 
of the World," "The Mystery of Metropolisville," "The Circuit Rider," 
" The Graysons," works on American history, etc. (See text.) 

Eugene Field (1850-1895). A native of Missouri, A journalist and author 
of Chicago, whose writings, especially his poems for and about children, 
have attracted much attention. Author of "A Little Book of Profitable 
Tales," "A Little Book of Western Verse," "Love Songs of Childhood," 
"With Trumpet and Drum," "Songs and Other Verse," etc. 

John Fiske (1842-1901). A distinguished philosopher and historian of Cam- 
bridge. As a thinker he belonged to the school of Darwin and Spencer. He 
wrote "Myths and Myth-makers," "Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy," "The 
Destiny of Man," "The American Revolution," "Old Virginia and her 
Neighbours," etc, 

Paul Leicester Ford (i 865-1 902). A historian and novehst of New York 
City. He edited "The Writings of Thomas Jefferson" in ten volumes. 
Author of "The Honorable Peter Stirhng," "The Story of an Untold Love," 
"The True George Washington," "Janice Meredith " (which was widely 
read), etc. 

John Fox, Jr. Born in Kentucky in 1863. A gifted writer whose novels 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 313 

dealing with life in the Kentucky mountains have been very popular. 
Author of "A Cumberland Vendetta," "The Kentuckians," "The Little 
Shepherd of Kingdom Come," "The Trail of the Lonesome Pine," "The 
Heart of the Hills," etc. 

Mary E. Wilkins Freeman. Born in Massachusetts in 1862. A writer for 
magazines whose poems, short stories, etc., contain an appreciative realism 
of simple life and character. Author of "Shoulders of Atlas," "Winning 
Lady," " The Jamesons and People of our Neighborhood," and many others. 

Alice French ("Octave Thanet"). Born in Massachusetts in 1850; has 
resided chiefly in the West. A story-writer and novelist. Author of 
"Knitters in the Sun," "Otto, the Knight," "Stories of a Western Town," 
"A Book of True Lovers," "The Heart of Toil," "A Slave to Duty," etc. 

Zona Gale. Born in Wisconsin in 1874. Essayist and writer for magazines 
whose stories are permeated with a beautiful idealism of simple life and 
humble people. Author of "The Loves of Pelleas and Etarre," "Friend- 
ship Village," "Friendship Village Love Stories," etc. 

Hamlin Garlant). Born in Wisconsin, i860. Story-writer, novelist, and 
dramatist. Author of "Prairie Folks," "Wayside Courtships," "The 
Eagle's Heart," "The Captain of the Gray Horse Troop," "The Long 
Trail," etc. 

Richard Watson Gilder (1844- 1909). Born in New Jersey. Poet, editor, 
and social reformer. Editor of The Century Magazine. Author of "The 
New Day," "The Celestial Passion," "Lyrics," "Five Books of Songs," 
"In Palestine," etc. 

Ellen A. Glasgow. Bom in Virginia in 1874. A novelist and poet. Author 
of "The Descendant," "Phases of an Inferior Planet," "The Voice of the 
People," "The Freeman, and Other Poems," "The Deliverance," "The 
Wheel of Life," etc. 

Maltd Wilder Goodwin. Born in New York, 1856. Author of historical 
romances, among which may be mentioned "The Colonial Cavalier " 
and "Life of Dolly Madison." 

Robert Grant. Born in Boston, 1852. Author of many novels, among which 
may be mentioned "The Confessions of a Frivolous Girl," "The Little 
Tin Gods on Wheels," "An Average Man," and "The Reflections of a 
Married Man." 

Anna Katherine Green (Mrs. Charles Rohlfs). Born in New York, 1846. 
Author of many exciting detective stories. "The Leavenworth Case," 
"That Affair Next Door," "The Filigree Ball," and "The Millionaire 
Baby" are among the most popular of her works. 

Louise Imogen Guiney. Born in Boston, 1861. Writer of poems which show 
true literary instinct and expression. Author of "The White Sail and 



314 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Other Poems," "England and Yesterday," "The Martyr's Idyl and 
Shorter Poems," etc., and editor of "Matthew Arnold" in small Riverside 
Literature series, Dr. T. W. Parsons' translation of Dante's "Divina 
Commedia," etc. 

Edwakd Everett Hale (182 2-1909). Born in Massachusetts. Unitarian 
clergyman, historian, poet, editor, and novelist ; but as active in philan- 
thropy as in literature. Among his many writings are to be noted "The 
Man Without a Country," "In His Name," "Ten Times One is Ten," 
"Philip Nolan's Friends," "For Fifty Years," a collection of poems, etc. 
(See text.) 

Gail Hamilton. See Mary A. Dodge. 

Henry Harland ("Sidney Luska") (1861-1905). Born in St. Petersburg, 
Russia. A novelist of New York City. Author of "The Cardinal's Snuff 
Box," "My Friend Prospero," "The Land of Love," and "The Lady 
Paramount." 

Marion Harland. See Mary V. Terhune. 

Joel Chandler Harris (1848-1908). Bom in Georgia. An editor of The 
Atlanta Cotistitution, distinguished especially for his studies in negro folk- 
lore. Author of "Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings," "Nights 
with Uncle Remus," "Uncle Remus and his Friends," " Little Mr. Thimble- 
finger," "Balaam and his Master," "Stories of Georgia," "Chronicles of 
Aunt Minerva," etc. 

William T. Harris (1835-1909). Born in Connecticut. For thirteen years 
superintendent of the St. Louis public schools ; afterwards lecturer of the 
Concord School of Philosophy ; for many years United States Commis- 
sioner of Education. Eminent as an educator and philosopher. Author 
of "Introduction to the Study of Philosophy," "The Spiritual Sense of 
Dante's Divina Commedia," "Psychologic Foundation of Education," etc. 

Francis Bret Harte (i 839-1903). A native of New York, but spent a con- 
siderable part of his life in California. An editor, poet, and novelist. 
Author of some forty different works, among which are "Luck of Roaring 
Camp," "Poems," "Tales of the Argonauts," "Gabriel Conroy," "Tales 
of Trail and Town," "Under the Redwoods," etc. (See text.) 

Julian Hawthorne ( 1846-19 14). A native of Boston. Son of Nathaniel 
Hawthorne ; a journalist and novelist who inherited much of his father's 
originahty. Author of "Nathaniel Hawthorne and His Wife," "Bres- 
sant," "Garth," "Beatrix Randolph," "Fortune's Fool," "Archibald 
Malmaison," "One of Those Coincidences, and Other Stories," etc. 

John Hay (1838-1905). Born in Indiana. Private secretary of President 
Lincoln, ambassador to England, and Secretary of State. Author of " Cas- 
tilian Days," "Pike County Ballads," "Abraham Lincoln," "Poems," etc. 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 315 

Henry Hayes. See Ellen O. Kirk. 

Lafcadio Hearn (1850-1904). A resident first of New Orleans, then of New 
York, and lastly of Japan. The following titles indicate the nature of his 
works : "Stray Leaves from Strange Literature," "Some Chinese Ghosts," 
"Youma, the Story of a West Indian Slave," "Out of the East," and 
"Hints and Echoes of Japanese Inner Life," etc. 

O. Henry. See Sidney Porter. 

Robert Herrick. Born in Massachusetts, 1868. University professor and 
noveUst. Author of "The Man who Wins," "Literary Love Letters, 
and Other Stories," "The Common Lot," "One Woman's Life," etc. 

Thomas Wentworth Higginson (1823-1911). Essayist and litterateur of 
Cambridge. A prominent abolitionist before the Civil War, and since 
then active advocate of woman's suflfrage. Among varied and numerous 
works are "Atlantic Essays," "Woman and her Wishes," "Short Studies of 
American Authors," "Common Sense about Women," "Life of Margaret 
Fuller Ossoli," "Larger History of the United States," "The Afternoon 
Landscape" (a collection of poems), and "Cheerful Yesterdays." 

John Oliver Hobbes. See Pearl Mary-Teresa Craigie. 

Marietta Holley. Bom in New York, 1850. Humorous writer of poems, 
essays, and stories. Her writings include "My Wayward Partner," 
"Sweet Cicely," "Poems," "Samantha at Saratoga," "Samantha in 
Europe," and numerous other Samantha stories. 

Blanche Willis Howard (1847-1898) (Frau Von Teuffel). Born in Maine, 
lived in Germany after 1875. Among her novels are "Aunt Serena," 
"Guenn," and "The Open Door." 

Julia Ward Howe (181 9- 191 o). A writer of Boston, prominent in philan- 
thropic movements and in the movement for the enfranchisement of women. 
Her "Battle Hymn of the Republic" is her finest poem. Other works 
are "Passion Flowers," "Later Lyrics," "Sex and Education," "Modern 
Society," etc. 

William Dean Howells. Bom in Ohio in 1837. He began his literary career 
as a writer of verse. Consul to Venice and later editor of The Atlantic 
Monthly. Among his many volumes of realistic fiction may be mentioned 
"The Undiscovered Country," "A Modem Instance," "The Rise of Silas 
Lapham," "A Traveller from Altruria," to which may be added a series of 
delightful farces, "The Mouse Trap," "The Parlor Car," etc. (See text.) 

Helen Hunt. See Helen Fiske Jackson. 

Helen Fiske Jackson ("Helen Hunt") (1831-1885). Born in Massachusetts; 
resided the latter part of her life in Colorado. A prose-writer and poet of 
unusual gifts. Author of " A Century of Dishonor," "Sonnets and Lyrics," 
"Ramona," one of our best-known novels, and of many other works. 



?^ 



316 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Henry James (1843-1916). A native of New York; resided in London since 
1869. His numerous novels are written in a style of overdone refinement. 
Worthy of mention are ''The Portrait of a Lady," ''Daisy Miller," "The 
Bostonians," "A London Wife," "The Sacred Fount," etc. (See text.) 

Sarah Orne Jewett (1848-1909) . Born in Maine. Her careful studies of rural 
New England life and character have justly made her popular. Author of 
"Old Friends and New," "A Country Doctor," "The King of Folly Island, 
and Other People," "The Country of the Pointed Firs," etc. 

Mary Johnston. Born in Virginia in 1870. Well-known novelist and lecturer 
on woman's suffrage. Author of "Prisoners of Hope," "To Have and to 
Hold," "Audrey," "Sir Mortimer," "The Long Roll," "Cease Firing," 
"Hagar," etc. 

Richard Malcom Johnston (1822-1898). A Baltimore educator and a writer 
of humor and originality. Among varied works may be mentioned 
" Dukesborough Tales," "Mr. Absalom BilHngslea and Other Georgia 
Folk," "Studies, Literary and Social," "Mr. Billy Downs and his Likes," 
"Widow Guthrie, a Novel," and "Mr. Fortner's Marital Claims." 

Helen Keller. Born in Alabama, 1880. Deaf and dumb since the age of 
17 months. Lecturer and author. Author of "The Story of my Life," 
"Optimism" (an essay), "Out of the Dark," and several others. 

Charles King. Born in New York in 1844. A brigadier-general in the war 
against Spain. A resident for many years of Wisconsin. Author of more 
than thirty volumes, principally military novels, which have been exten- 
sively read. Among his publications are " Famous and Decisive Battles," 
"Between the Lines," "Under Fire," "The General's Double," "A War 
Time Wooing," "Kitty's Conquest," etc. 

Grace Elizabeth King. Born in New Orleans in 1852. Novelist and his- 
torical writer. Author of "Monsieur Motte," " New Orleans, the Place and 
the People," "De Soto and His Men in the Land of Florida," "History of 
Louisiana," '\Stories from History of Louisiana," and several others. 

Ellen Olney Kirk ("Henry Hayes"). Born in Connecticut, 1842. Novelist, 
essayist, and short-story writer. Author of "A Midsummer Madness," 
"The Story of Margaret Kent," "Dorothy Deane," "Marcia," etc. 

Sidney Lanier (1842-1881). A native of Georgia. A poet, musician, and 
novelist. A poet of original genius, who did not live to realize all his 
possibihties. Author of "Poems," "Tiger LiHes" (a novel), "The Science 
of English Verse," "The English Novel and its Development," etc. (See 
text.) 

Lucy Larcom (1824-1893). A native of Massachusetts, who in early life 
worked in the Lowell mills. She afterwards became popular as a writer 
both of prose and verse. Among her works are "Childhood Songs," 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 317 

"Ships in the Mist, and Other Stories," "The Unseen Friend," "A New 
England Girlhood," which is autobiographic, etc. 

George Parsons Lathrop (1851-1898). Born at Oahu, Hawaii. A littera- 
teur of New York City. Author of "Dreams and Days" (verse), "An 
Echo of Passion" and other works of fiction, "A Study of Hawthorne," 
" Spanish Vistas, " etc. 

Emma Lazarus (1849-1887). A native of New York ; a gifted writer of Jewish 
descent. Among her writings are "Alide, an Episode of Goethe's Life," 
" Admetus, and Other Poems," "Songs of a Semite," "Poems and Ballads 
translated from Heine." 

Charles Godfrey Leland (1824-1903). A native of Philadelphia, a poet and 
educator, and authority in gypsy lore. Author of "Hans Breitmann's 
Ballads," "English Gypsies," "Practical Education," "Legends of 
Florence," "Algonquin Legends," "Anglo-Romany Songs," etc. 

Frances Little. See Fannie C. Macaulay. 

David Ross Locke. (" Petroleum V. Nasby ") (1833-1888). A native of New 
York. A widely known political satirist. Author of " Ekkoes from 
Kentucky," "Struggles of Petroleum V. Nasby," "Nasby in Exile," etc. 

Henry Cabot Lodge. Born in Boston, 1850. Senator, lecturer, editor, and 
author of many historical and biographical works. Representative of him 
are his " Short History of the English Colonies in America, " "Life of Wash- 
ington," "Certain Accepted Heroes and Other Essays in Literature and 
Pohtics," "Story of the Revolution," and "A Frontier Town and Other 
Essays." 

Jack London. Born in California in 1876. Journalist, lecturer, novelist, 
socialist, and writer on sociological subjects. An extensive traveler, 
and war correspondent in the Russo-Japanese War. Author of "The God 
of his Fathers," "The People of the Abyss," "The CaU of the Wild," 
"John Barleycorn," and many other publications. 

Charles F. Lummis. Born in Massachusetts, 1859. Explorer and author. 
Among numerous works may be mentioned "Birch Bark Poems," "A 
Tramp Across the Continent," "The Man Who Married the Moon, and 
Other Pueblo Indian Folk-Stories," etc. 

Sidney Luska. See Henry Harland. 

Hamilton Wright Mabie. Born in New York in 1846. An essayist and 
journalist, associate editor of The Outlook. Author of "Norse Stories 
Retold from the Eddas," "My Study Fire," "Short Studies in Literature," 
"Nature and Culture," "Books and Culture," "Work and Culture," 
"The Life of the Spirit," "Shakespeare : Poet, Dramatist, and Man," etc. 

Fannie Caldwell Macaulay ("Frances Little"). Born in Kentucky, 1863. 
Author of works of fiction portraying her experiences in Japan, the best- 



3I§ AMERICAN LITERATURE 

known being the "Lady of the Decoration." Others are "Little Sister 
Snow," "The Lady and Sada San," and "The House of the Misty Star." 

George Barr McCutcheon. Born in Indiana, 1866. Author of romantic 
and exciting novels. Among the most popular are "Graustark," 
"Brewster's Millions," "Beverly of Graustark," "Truxton King," and 
"A Fool and His Money." 

Percy MacKaye. Born in New York, 1875. Lecturer and prominent drama- 
tist. A long list of works includes "The Canterbury Pilgrims " (comedy), 
"Jeanne D'Arc" (tragedy), "The Playhouse and the Play" (essays), and 
"Uriel, and Other Poems." 

John Bach McM aster. Born in New York, 1852. Historical writer and 
professor of American history at University of Pennsylvania since 1883. 
Author of "A History of the People of the United States," "Benjamin 
Franklin as a Man of Letters," "With the Fathers, Studies in American 
History," "The Struggle for the Social, Political, and Industrial Rights 
of Man," and other similar works. 

Edwin Markham. Born in Oregon in 1852. A teacher, prose-writer, and poet. 
His poem, "The Man with the Hoe," attracted widespread attention. 
Author of "The Man with the Hoe, and Other Poems," "Lincoln and 
Other Poems," etc. 

Ik Marvel. See Donald G. Mitchell. 

Brand ER Matthews. Born in Louisiana in 1852. A professor in Columbia 
University, critic, dramatist, and novelist. Among his many writings 
are "The Theatres of Paris," "Margery's Lovers" (a comedy), "The 
Last Meeting," "In the Vestibule Limited," "The Decision of the Court" 
(a comedy), "His Father's Son," etc. 

Herman Melville (1819-1891). A novelist of New York City, once very 
popular. Author of "White Jacket," "Mardi," "The Piazza Tales," 
"The Confidence Man," etc. 

CiNCiNNATUs Heine Miller ("Joaquin Miller") (1841-1913). A native of 
Indiana. Lawyer, judge, editor, and author. Among his principal works 
are "Songs of the Sierras," "Songs of the Sunland," "The Danites in the 
Sierras," "Shadows of Shasta," "Songs of Far-Away Lands," etc. (See 
text.) 

Joaquin Miller. See Cincinnatus H. Miller. 

Donald Grant Mitchell ("Ik Marvel") (1822-1908). A litt6rateur of New 
Haven. Popular and pleasantly sentimental are his "Dream Life " and 
"Reveries of a Bachelor." Other works are "Dr Johns" (a novel), "Fudge 
Doings," "Seven Stories," "EngUsh Lands, Letters, and Kings," etc. 

Silas Weir Mitchell (1829-1914). A distinguished physician of Philadelphia, 
poet, and novelist. Author of "Poems" (5 vols.), and of "Hephzibah 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 319 

Guinnes," "Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker," which became very popular, 
"The Autobiography of a Quack," "Dr. North and His Friends," etc. 

William Vaughn Moody (1869-1910). A native of Indiana. Professor of 
English Literature at University of Chicago, editor, and poet. Author of 
"The Masque of Judgement" (a lyrical drama), "Poems," "History of 
English Literature," etc. 

GouvERNEUR MoRRis. Bom in New York in 1876. Well-known short-story 
writer and contributor to magazines. Author of "Ellen and her Man," 
"The Footprint, and Other Stories," "Putting on the Screws," etc. 

Louise Chandler ]Moulton (1835-1908). Born in Connecticut. A poet and 
prose-writer of Boston. She was the literary executor of the English poet, 
Phihp Bourke Marston, whose poems she edited. Her works include 
"This, That and the Other," made up of stories, essays, and poems, "Juno 
Clifford," "Poems," "Random Rambles," "In the Garden of Dreams, 
Lyrics, and Sonnets," etc. 

Mary Noailles Murfree ("Charles Egbert Craddock"). Born in Tennessee 
in 1850. A novelist, whose stories of the Tennessee mountains have 
made her famous. Author of "In the Tennessee Mountains," "The 
Prophet of the Great Smoky Mountain," "In the Clouds," "The Mystery 
of Witchface Mountain," "The Bushwhackers, and Other Stories," etc. 
(See text.) 

Petroleum V. Nasby. See David R. Locke. 

Meredith Nicholson. Born in Indiana in 1866. Author of "The Hoosiers " 
(literary history) and of a number of popular novels. Among them may 
be mentioned "The House of a Thousand Candles," "The Main Chance," 
"The Port of Missing Men," etc. 

John Boyle O'Reilly (1844-1890). Born in Ireland. Journalist and poet of 
Boston. Author of " Songs, Legends, and Ballads," " Songs of the Southern 
Seas," "Stories and Sketches" (prose), etc. 

Thomas Nelson Page. Born in Virginia in 1853. A novelist of Southern life. 
Author of "In Old Virginia," "Two Little Confederates," "Among the 
Camps," "Meh Lady," "Marse Chan," "Santa Claus' Partner," "Red 
Rock," "Gordon Keith," etc. 

Mrs. Partington. See Benjamin P. Shillaber. 

Bliss Perry. Born in Massachusetts, i860. Educator, editor, lecturer, and 
author. Author of "The Broughton House," "Salem Kittredge and Other 
Stories," "A Study of Prose Fiction," "Walt Whitman," etc. 

David Graham Phillips (1867-1911). A native of Indiana. Author of "The 
Great God Success," "Her Serene Highness," "A Woman Ventures," 
"Golden Fleece," "The Social Secretary," "The Second Generation," 
"The Age of GUt," 



320 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Sydney Porter ("O. Henry") (1867-1910). A native of North Carolina. 
Journalist, editor, and famous master of the realistic short story. Author 
of "Cabbages and Kings," "The Heart of the West," "The Voice of the 
City," "Roads of Destiny," etc. 

Margaret J. Preston (i 820-1897). A poetess and prose-writer of Lexington, 
Virginia. Author of "Old Songs and New," "Beechenbrook, a Rhyme 
of the War," "Cartoons," "For Love's Sake," "Silverwood" (a novel), 
etc. 

Agnes Repplier. Born in Pennsylvania in 1859. ^^ popular essayist ; Roman 
Catholic in religion. Author of "Books and Men," "Points of View," 
"Essays in Miniature," "Essays in Idleness," "Philadelphia, the Place 
and the People," etc. 

Alice Hegan Rice. Born in Kentucky in 1870. Originator of the famous 
"Mrs. Wiggs, " who was mistress of the divine art of "plucking roses from 
a cabbage patch." Also author of "Lovey Mary," "Captain June," and 
several other novels. 

Cale Young Rice. Born in Kentucky, 1872. Poet and dramatist. His 
poems include "With Omar," "Nirvana Days," and "Far Quests "; his 
poetic dramas include "David," "A Night in Avignon," and "The Im- 
mortal Lure." 

James Whitcomb Riley (1853-19 16). Born in Indiana. He has long been 
known as the "Hoosier Poet." Much of his verse, which is quite popular, 
is in the Western dialect. Author of "The Old Swimmin ' Hole, and 'Leven 
More Poems," "Rhymes of Childhood," "Green Fields and Running 
Brooks," "Neighborly Poems," "Poems Here at Home," etc. 

Mary Roberts Rinehart. Born in Pennsylvania, 1876. Play-writer and 
author of popular detective stories among which may be mentioned "The 
Circular Staircase, " "When a Man Marries," "The Man in Lower Ten." 

Amelie Rives ("Princess Troubetzkoy"). Born in Virginia in 1863. A 
writer of prose and poetry of unusual gifts. Author of "The Quick and 
the Dead," a freakish, perverse production that had considerable vogue, — 
"Virginia of Virginia," "Herod and Mariamne" (a drama), "Barbara 
Dering," "Tanis," etc. 

Edward Payson Roe (1838-1888). A Presbyterian clergyman of New York 
State, who wrote many novels, once quite popular, of a strong moral 
character. Among them were "The Opening of a Chestnut Burr," 
"Barriers Burned Away," "A Knight of the Nineteenth Century," "The 
Earth Trembled," etc. 

Theodore Roosevelt. Born in New York in 1858. Ex-president of the 
United States; vigorous in mind as in body, a jBne type of "The Strenuous 
Life" he advocates. Author of "The Winning of the West," "Life of 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 321 

Thomas Hart Benton," "Naval War of 181 2," "American Ideals and Other 
Essays," " Ranch Life and the Hunting Trail," "Life of Cromwell," etc. 

Abram Joseph Ryan ("Father Ryan") (1839-1888). A native of Virginia, 
and priest of the Roman Catholic Church. His poetry, while not reaching 
the highest excellence, has been w^idely read in the South. Among the 
most popular of his poems are "The Sword of Robert Lee," "The Con- 
quered Banner," and "Their Story Runneth Thus." (See text.) 

Margaret ]\L Sangster (1838-1912). Journalist of New York City, editor 
Harper's Bazar, and writer of pleasant poems and stories. Author of 
"Poems of the Household," "Home Fairies and Heart Flowers," "Little 
Knights and Ladies," etc. 

Clinton Scollard. Born in New York, i860. Author of "Old and New 
World Lyrics," "A Man at Arms," "Songs of Sunrise Sands," "Lawton," 
"Odes and Elegies," "The Vicar of the Marches," and many other 
works. 

Horace E. Scudder (1838- 1903). Born in Boston. A litterateur of his native 
city; for some years editor of The Atlantic Monthly. Author of "Seven 
Little People and Their Friends," "Stories from My Attic," "Life of Noah 
Webster," "A History of the United States," "Life of Bayard Taylor," 
etc. 

Molly Elliot Seawell. Born in Virginia in i860. Story-writer and novelist. 
Author of "Little Jarvis," "Sprightly Romance of Marsac" (which won a 
$3000 prize), "Maid Marion," ".\ Virginia Cavalier," etc. 

Ernest Thompson-Seton. Born in South Shields, England, in i860, but has 
done prominent work in the United States as animal painter and illustrator, 
as lecturer, and writer of out-of-door stories. Author of "Wild Animals 
I have Known," "The Biography of a Grizzly," "Two Savages," "Scout- 
ing for Boys," etc. 

Henry Wheeler Shaw ("Josh Billings") (1818-1885). A native of Massa- 
chusetts. A well-known humorist. Author of "Josh Billings' Sayings," 
"Everybody's Friend," "Josh Billings' Trump Kards, " etc. 

Frank Dempster Sherman. Born in New York in i860. Professor of 
architecture in Columbia University; a lyrical poet. Author of "Madri- 
• gals and Catches," "Lyrics for a Lute," "Little Folk Lyrics," etc. 

Benjamin P. Shillaber ("Mrs. Partington") (1814-1890). A native of 
New Hampshire. Humorist of the type which mistakes words of similar 
sound but dissimilar meaning. Author of "Life and Sajdngs of Mrs. 
Partington," "Ike Partington Stories," "Rhymes with Reason," etc. 

Upton Sinclair. Bom in Baltimore, IMaryland, in 1878. Socialistic writer, 
whose novel, "The Jungle," attracted much attention. Also author 
of "King Midas," "The Money Changers," "Plays of Protest," etc. 



322 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Francis Hopkinson Smith (1838-1915). Born in Baltimore, Maryland. 
Artist, lecturer on art, and novelist. Many of his novels deal admirably 
with ante-bellum days in the South. Author of "Col. Carter of Carters- 
viUe," "Gondola Days," "The Fortunes of Oliver Horn," "The Tides of 
Bamegat," "Kennedy Square," etc. 

Samuel F. Smith (i 808-1 895). A native of Massachusetts. Famous as the 
author of "America." Also wrote much religious verse, and published for 
juvenile readers "Mythology and Early Greek History," "Rambles in 
Mission Fields," etc. 

John Lancaster Spalding. Born in Kentucky, 1840. Roman Catholic Arch- 
bishop. Author of "Religious Mission of the Irish People," "Education 
and the Higher Life," "Thoughts and Theories of Life and Education," 
"America, and Other Poems," "Socialism and Labor," and numerous 
other similar works. 

Harriet Prescott Spofford. Bom in Maine, 1835. Poet and novelist, 
author of "The Marquis of Carabas," "The Amber Gods," "New England 
Legends," "The Making of a Fortune," etc. 

Edmund Clarence Stedman (i 833-1 908). Born in Connecticut. A poet 
and Hterary critic of New York, possessing rare refinement of taste. Author 
of "Poems," "Victorian Poets," "Poets of America," "The Nature and 
Elements of Poetry," "A Victorian Anthology," "An American Anthology," 
etc. (See text.) 

Francis Richard Stockton (1834-1903). A native of Philadelphia; a writer 
of rare humor and originality. Among his numerous delightful stories are 
"The Lady or the Tiger?" "Rudder Grange," "The Casting Away of 
Mrs. Leeks and Mrs. Aleshine," "The House of Martha," "The Watch- 
maker's Wife," etc. (See text.) 

Richard Henry Stoddard (1825-1903). A native of Massachusetts, who 
spent the most of his life in New York as poet, editor, and critic. A writer 
of more than usual force. Author of "Adventures in Fairy Land," "Songs 
of Summer," "Life of Washington Irving," "Under the Evening Lamp," 
etc. (See text.) 

William Wetmore Story (18 19-1895). Native of Massachusetts. Poet, 
sculptor, and essayist. Author of "Conversations in a Studio," "Fiam- 
metta " (a novel), "A Poet's Portfolio," etc. 

Ruth McEnery Stuart. Born in Louisiana in 1855. A popular writer of 
short stories. Author of "A Golden Wedding, and Other Tales," "Car- 
lotta's Intended," "The Story of Babette," "Sonny," "Molly andPizen," 
etc. 

John B. Tabb (1845-1909). Bom in Virginia.. A Roman Catholic priest, and 
teacher of St. Charles College. A lyric poet of refined feeling. Author of 
"Poems," "Lyrics," "Poems Grave and Gay," etc. 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 323 

Newton Booth Tarkington. Born in Indiana in 1869. Popular novelist. 
Author of "The Gentleman from Indiana," which made him famous, 
"Monsieur Beaucaire," "The Two Vanrevels," "Penrod" stories, etc. 

Ida M. Tarbell. Born in Pennsylvania in 1857. Widely known journalist 
and editor. Author of "Short Life of Nap)oleon Bonaparte," "History of 
the Standard Oil Company," "He Knew Lincoln," "The Tariff in Our 
Times," etc. 

Mary Virginia Terhune ("Marion Harland"). Born in Virginia in 1831. 
A novelist, journalist, and writer on domestic economy. Author of 
"Alone," "Moss-Side," "The Hidden Path," "Common Sense in the 
Household," "True as Steel," "Eve's Daughters," "Where Ghosts 
Walk," etc. 

Octave Thanet. See Alice French. 

Celia Thaxter (1835-1894). A native of New Hampshire. Her father was 
keeper of the lighthouse on the Isles of Shoals, where much of her life was 
spent. "Among the Isles of Shoals" were papers published in The Atlantic 
Monthly. Among her volumes of verse are "Drift Wood," "The Cruise 
of the Mystery, and Other Poems," "Poems for Children," etc. 

Edith M. Thomas. Born in Ohio, 1854. Popular poet, among whose works 
may be mentioned "Lyrics and Sonnets," "In Sunshine Land," "In the 
Young World," "The Round Year" (prose), and "Cassia and Other Verse." 

Maurice Thompson ( 1 844-1 901). Born in Indiana. A Confederate soldier, 
State geologist of Indiana, journalist, novelist, and poet. Author of "A 
Tallahassee Giri," "His Second Campaign," "A Fortnight of Folly," 
"Alice of Old Vincennes," "Songs of Fair Weather," "Poems," etc. 

Albion Winegar Tourgee (1838-1905). Born in Ohio. Officer in the Union 
army, resident of North Carolina, 1 865-1 881, consul at Bordeaux. A 
lawyer and novelist. His novel, "A Fool's Errand," created a sensation. 
Author of "Bricks without Straw," "Hot Plowshares," "Pactolus Prime," 
"A Son of Old Harry," "The Man Who Outlived Himself," etc. 

William P. Trent. Born in Virginia in 1862. Teacher and author. He 
has written among other things, "English Culture in Virginia," "Life of 
William Gilmore Simms," "Southern Statesmen of the Old Regime," 
"Authority of Criticism," etc. 

Princess Troubetzkoy. See Amelie Rives. 

John T. Trowbridge (i 827-191 6). A native of New York. A popular writer 
of both prose and verse. His juvenile writings are interesting and whole- 
some. Among his numerous works are "Neighbor Jackwood," "Neigh- 
bors' Wives," "The Vagabonds, and Other Poems," "Laurence's Adven- 
tures," "The Young Surveyor," "A Home Idyl, and Other Poems," "Far- 
nell's Folly," "The Lottery Ticket," etc. 



324 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Mark Twain. See Samuel L. Clemens. 

Lewis Wallace ("Lew Wallace") (1827-1903). Born in Indiana. A lawyer, 
soldier, diplomat, and author. Minister to Turkey, 1881-1885. Author 
of "Ben Hur, a Tale of the Christ," "The Fair God," "The Prince of 
India," etc. 

Artemus Ward. See Charles Farrar Browne. 

Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward (1841-1911). A native of Massachusetts. 
A writer of admirable gifts in both prose and poetry. Her "Gates Ajar," 
which appeared in 1867, made her famous. The following are noteworthy 
in the long list of her writings: "Men, Women, and Ghosts," "Dr. Zay," 
"The Story of Avis," "A Singular Life," and "Songs of the Silent 
World." 

Charles Dudley Warner (1829-1900). An editor, novelist, and essa3nst of 
Hartford. To critical acumen he joined a delightful humor. Author 
of "My Summer in a Garden," "Backlog Studies," "In the Wilderness," 
"Life of Washington Irving," "In the Levant," etc. (See text.) 

Edith Wharton. Born in New York in 1862. Author of strong and well- 
drawn novels. Among her best-known books are "The House of Mirth," 
"The Fruit of the Tree," and "The Custom of the Country." 

E. P. Whipple (1819-1886). An essayist and critic of Boston, who supported 
his sound judgment with a vigorous style. Among his writings are 
"Character and Characteristic Men," "Literature and Life," "Success 
and its Conditions," "Literature of the Age of Elizabeth," etc. 

Richard Grant White (182 2-1885). A critic, novelist, and Shakespeare 
scholar of New York. Author of "Words and Their Uses," "Every Day 
English," "The Fate of Mansfield Humphreys," and a critical edition 
of Shakespeare in twelve volumes. 

Steward Edward White. Born in Michigan, 1873. Writer of stories dealing 
with western mountain life. Author of "The Blazed Trail," "The Silent 
Places," "African Camp Fires," etc. 

William Allen White. Born in Kansas in 1868. Journalist and novelist, 
best known for the novel "A Certain Rich Man," a strong and well-drawn 
book. Also author of "The Court of Boyville," "The Old Order Changeth," 
etc. 

Walt Whitman (1819-1892). Teacher, printer, editor, carpenter — a unique 
figure in American literature. Author of "Leaves of Grass," in which 
the usual poetic forms are discarded. By some esteemed highly as a poet, 
by others denied that title entirely. (See text.) 

Adeline D. T. Whitney (1824-1906). Bom in Boston. A popular writer 
for girls. Author of "Faith Gartney's Girlhood," "Leslie Goldthwaite," 
"The Other Girls," and in verse, of "Pansies," "Holy Tides," etc. 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 325 

Kate Douglas Wiggin (Mrs. George C. Riggs). Born in Philadelphia in 1859. 
Novelist and author of a number of works on the kindergarten. She 
organized the first free kindergartens on the Pacific Coast and has been 
interested in that work ever since. Her novels throw a delightful joyous- 
ness into stories of simple life. Among many may be mentioned " Rebecca," 
"The Old Peabody Pew," "The Diary of a Goose Girl," and "Tales of 
Wonder." 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Bom in Wisconsin in 1855. Best known as a poet, 
though also journalist and essayist. The versatility and humanitarian 
interest of her poems have made them very popular. Among many pro- 
ductions may be mentioned "Poems of Pleasure," "Poems of Power," 
" Poems of Progress and New Thought Pastels," etc. 

Augusta Jane Evans Wilson (1835-1909). Born in Georgia. A once popular 
novelist. Author of "Inez," "Beulah," "St. Elmo," "Vashti," "At the 
Mercy of Tiberius," etc. 

WooDROW Wilson. Bom in Virginia in 1856. President Princeton University, 
Governor of New Jersey, elected President of the United States in 191 2. 
Writer chiefly on historical subjects, .\uthor of " Division and Reunion," 
" A History of the American People," " Mere Literature, and Other Essays," 
"The New Freedom," etc. 

William Winter. Born in Massachusetts in 1836. Author and dean of 
dramatic critics in America. Author of "Shakespeare's England," "Gray 
Days and Gold," " Shadows of the Stage," "Life and Art of Edwin Booth," 
"Wanderers " (poems), "Life of Ada Rehan," "Henry Irving : Studies of 
His Acting," etc. 

Owen Wister. Bom in Philadelphia in i860. .\ lawyer and writer of both 
prose and verse. "The Virginian" and "Lady Baltimore" are his best- 
known novels; he is also author of "The Simple Spelling Bee," "The 
Seven Ages of Washington," "U. S. Grant, a Biography," etc. 

George Edward Woodberry. Born in Massachusetts in 1855. Professor 
in Columbia University, biographer, poet, and literary critic. Author of 
"Life of Edgar Allan Poe," "The North Shore Watch, and Other Poems," 
"Heart of Man," "Makers of Literature," etc. 

Constance Fenimore Woolson (1838-1894). A native of New Hampshire. 
A novelist of worth, "Horace Chase" being her best-known work. Her 
writings include also "Two Women" (a poem), "Southern Sketches," 
"The Front Yard, and Other Italian Stories," and "The Old Stone House." 
/ Harold Bell Wright. Born in New York in 1872. Painter and novelist. 
His "Shepherd of the Hills" and "The Winning of Barbara Worth" have 
been widely read. "The Calling of Dan Matthews" has also been de- 
servedly popular. 



V 

SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 

(1861-1925) 

543. An Era of Transition. — The Second National 
Period begins with the Civil War, and will probably be 
terminated by important social or political changes in the 
first half of the present century. The present time is re- 
garded by many thoughtful persons as a period of transition. 
It is felt that the old order is changing. What is to follow 
as the result of influences now at work cannot be clearly 
discerned. But of one thing we may be sure, whatever 
changes may come will be in the line of human progress. 
Humanity is slowly but surely working its way up to greater 
freedom, intelligence, and goodness. 

544. Diffusive, Critical Literature. — As compared with 
previous periods, literature now exhibits a many-sided 
activity. Its themes are as varied as the interests of our 
race. Philosophy, history, science, fiction, poetry, are 
more generally cultivated than ever before. The litera- 
ture of the present time is characterized by great artistic 
excellence. The prevailing scientific spirit, rejecting the 
dicta of mere authority, makes truth its only criterion. 
The beliefs and opinions of tradition are once more put 
into the crucible. While there are many conflicting theories 
and creeds, a liberal-minded urbanity has replaced the old- 

326 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 327 

time harshness and intolerance. Our literature at the present 
time is diffusive and critical rather than creative ; and thus 
it happens that, while we have many accomplished writers, 
there is no great original or dominating personality in 
American letters. 

545. A Dividing Line. — Most of the writers considered 
in the previous period, though they survived far beyond 
it, were formed under the influences prevailing before the 
Civil War. In every case they struck the key-note to their 
literary career before 1861. But most of the writers belonging 
to the present period were born since that time, or were 
children while the great struggle was going on. They have 
developed their literary taste and activity under the influences 
then and since existing. 

546. Homogeneous Development. — The Civil War it- 
self, the dividing line between the First and Second 
National Periods, has exerted no little influence upon our 
literature. In spite of the effort of self-seeking and narrow- 
minded politicians to perpetuate sectional prejudice, a strong 
national feeling, especially since the war with Spain, in which 
Northern and Southern heroes fought side by side, now binds 
all parts of our country together in an indissoluble union. 
With the abolition of slavery and the settlement of State 
rights, our civilization has become more homogeneous. Our 
vast railway systems carry the life-blood of trade and com- 
merce to all parts of our country. Through education and 
periodical literature, the people of all parts of our land share a 
common intellectual life. Our people are united as never 
before in a community of interest, and in patriotic devotion 
to the general welfare. These new conditions are favor- 
able to an expansion of literature, and tend to give it greater 
breadth of sympathy. 



328 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

547. War and Reconstruction. — But apart from its re- 
sult in laying a solid foundation for national greatness, 
the Civil War directly occasioned no insignificant body 
of literature. Poetry brought its sweet ministrations of 
comfort or cheer. In our previous studies we learned 
something of the war poetry of Longfellow, Lowell, and 
Whittier. Father Ryan may justly, perhaps, be regarded 
as the martial laureate of the South. " The Blue and the 
Gray," by Francis M. Finch, " All Quiet along the Poto- 
mac," by Ethel Beers, " Dixie," by Albert Pike, and " The 
Battle Hymn of the Republic," by Julia Ward Howe, are 
lyrics that still have power to move the heart. 

The hardships, dangers, and sufferings of the war have 
been frequently portrayed in novels. The period of re- 
construction gave rise, as in Judge Tourgee's " A Fool's 
Errand," Page's "Red Rock," and Dixon's ''The Leop- 
ard's Spots," to interesting and thrilling stories. The war 
called forth, also, numerous historical works. Apart from 
the histories of the war itself by John W. Draper, Horace 
Greeley, John S. C. Abbott, Alexander H. Stephens, Jefferson 
Davis, and others, we have had many biographical volumes, 
among which the " Memoirs " of W. T. Sherman, " Personal 
Memoirs " of U. S. Grant, and '' Narrative of Military 
Operations," by Joseph E. Johnston, deserve especial men- 
tion. 

548. Favorable Conditions. — During the present period 
the conditions have been generally favorable to literature. 
Our country has continued its marvellous development. 
Its population has more than doubled, and great States have 
been organized in the far West. Agriculture and manufacture 
have been developed to an extraordinary degree. New cities 
have been founded, and many of the older ones have increased 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 329 

enormously in wealth and population. All this has meant an 
increase of prosperity, of leisure, and of culture, the conditions 
antecedent to a flourishing literature. 

549. Press and School. — Two great educative agencies, 
the press and the school, have kept pace with the material 
progress of our country. Every important interest and 
every considerable community has its periodicals. Our 
great dailies spread before us every morning the news of 
the world. The influence of the newspaper upon the taste, 
intelligence, and character of our people is incalculable. 
Many of our prominent writers to-day have developed their 
literary gifts in connection with journalism. Our monthly 
magazines and reviews, unsurpassed in tasteful form and 
literary excellence, have been greatly multiplied. They 
powerfully stimulate literary activity. They are the vehicles, 
not only for what is most interesting in fiction, poetry, and 
criticism, but also for what is best in history, science, and 
philosophy. Nowhere else, perhaps, is there a nation so 
well informed as the people of the United States. 

550. Interest in Education. — For some decades the in- 
terest in education has been extraordinary. The free- 
school system has been extended to every part of our 
country. Graded and high schools are found in every town. 
The number of colleges, most of them open to both sexes, 
has largely increased. The courses of study have been 
expanded, and brought into closer relations with practical 
life. Some of the older institutions, as well as a few new ones 
with large endowment, have become in fact, as in name, 
universities. Educational journals have been established; 
admirable text-books have been prepared ; and, through the 
study of the history and science of education, the methods of 
instruction have been greatly improved. 



330 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

551. A World Power. — There is a Providence that 
watches over the destiny of nations as over that of in- 
dividuals. The war with Spain, provoked by the tyranny 
of that country in Cuba, was undertaken in the name of 
freedom. It sprang from the sentiment of humanity 
resident in the hearts of the American people. The re- 
sults of the war were wholly unforeseen. The battle 
of Manila placed the Philippine Islands in our hands, 
and brought our country forward as one of the great 
world powers. No longer isolated between the oceans, 
the United States are henceforth to play an important part 
in the development of the history of our globe. As a people, 
we stand for civil and religious freedom. It has been truly 
said that the Louisiana purchase of 1803 made America a 
steamboat nation ; the acquisition of California, a railroad 
and telegraph nation ; and, in like manner, the acquisition 
of Hawaii, Porto Rico, and, above all, the Philippines in 
1898, must make our country a naval nation. These new 
relations will not only affect the commercial interests of 
our country, but will also exert an influence on litera- 
ture. 

552. International Relations. — The present is an age 
of close international relations. Submarine cables and fleet 
steamers bring the various nations of the earth close together. 
With a clearer knowledge of one another, and with the common 
interests fostered by commerce, kindlier feelings are developed. 
From time to time the civilized nations of the earth unite in 
great expositions of their choicest products. Minor inter- 
national differences are usually sejttled by diplomacy or arbi- 
tration. Thousands of our people go abroad every year for 
pleasure or study. A few of our writers, as Henry James and 
F. Marion Crawford, have made their home in England or on 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 33 1 

the Continent. The modern languages of Europe are widely 
studied. Foreign books, either in the original or in transla- 
tions, are extensively read. In these ways our literature is 
influenced by movements abroad, and our culture assumes a 
cosmopolitan character. 

553. Social Progress. — The present period is an era of 
social progress. The facilities of production have greatly 
cheapened the necessaries of life. Wages have greatly 
increased ; and the poor, as well as the rich, hve better 
than ever before. But, at the same time, there is social 
unrest. Many believe that the existing conditions are not 
final. Wasteful wealth sometimes exists by the side of 
starving poverty. Our gigantic combinations of capital, 
which often abuse their power to wrong the people, are 
commonly recognized as a serious evil. Great attention 
is given to the study of economic and sociological questions. 
Along with numerous scientific treatises, we sometimes have 
presented, as in Bellamy's '' Looking Backward," a new 
Utopia for our contemplation. 

554. Religion and Literature. — Religion always exerts a 
strong influence upon literature. It deals with the highest 
interests of human life. There are many who regard religion 
as the dominant factor in social progress. In the past, as 
we have seen, it has been like an atmosphere to our literature. 
In spite of the scepticism reflected in much of our literature, 
the religious life of our people was never deeper than it is 
to-day. But Christianity has become practical rather than 
dogmatic. A spirit of reverence, righteousness, and charity 
counts for more than mere adherence to elaborate creeds. A 
sense of stewardship is leading to a larger practical 
benevolence. The church is in sympathy with every 
movement to reheve the unfortunate and reclaim the lost. 



332 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

It proclaims the unselfish love of the gospel as a solution of 
our great social problems. No inconsiderable part of our 
literature to-day, both in periodicals and in books, is occupied 
in some way with the discussion of religious themes. 

555. Influence of Philosophy. — In its relation to liter- 
ature, philosophy is scarcely less influential than religion. 
Sometimes, as with Emerson, it is difficult to draw the line 
between them. Philosophy seeks the fullest explanation of 
nature and of life. It is our way of looking upon the world. 
We cannot fully understand an author until we know what he 
thinks of God, nature, and man. His fundamental beliefs 
in these three great departments of human knowledge will 
consciously or unconsciously color his thoughts and feelings. 
In America the prevailing philosophy is theistic ; and it 
gives a pure, sane, and cheerful tone to our literature, which 
forms, in this particular, a favorable contrast with much of 
the current literature of Europe. Among the far-reaching 
influences recently introduced into science and philosophy 
is the theory of evolution. 

556. The Modern Novel. — The novel is a modern form of 
writing. It had its progenitors in the romances of the Middle 
Ages. It may, perhaps, be claimed that it had its prototype 
in the tales of ancient Egypt or the stories of ancient Greece. 
But there is in reality no immediate connection — no blood 
relationship — between them. 

The modern novel dates only from about the middle of the 
eighteenth century. It is then that we meet with Richardson's 
'' Pamela," Smollett's ^' Roderick Random," and Fielding's 
" Tom Jones." It could not indeed have flourished at an 
earlier period. It is only in recent times that Europe and 
America have had the free play of intellectual liberty that 
offers an inviting field for serious fiction. 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 333 

557. A Dominant Literary Form. — The novel is to-day 
the predominant form of literature. It has triumphed over 
the epic, the drama, and the essay, which occupied the 
literary stage of a former time. It has even outstripped 
poetry in its competition for popular favor. At the present 
time works of fiction surpass every other form of literary 
expression. 

The novel has made its way against prejudice and opposition. 
There are men now living who can recall the time when the 
reading of a novel was regarded with disfavor by our moral 
teachers. The production of a novel by a Christian minister 
was considered Uttle less than a public scandal. But to-day 
the novel is read by all classes of people ; and the religious 
teacher and the social reformer, as well as the professional 
literary man, employ the novel to embody their ethical or 
economic teachings. 

558. Romanticism. — In fiction there has been a notable 
reaction against the romanticism of the earlier part of the 
nineteenth century. It is not easy to give a complete and 
satisfactory definition of romanticism. Victor Hugo says 
that it is freedom in literature. It presents what is imagi- 
native or fantastic, rather than what is real. It gives promi- 
nence to the poetic side of life. It aims at the picturesque 
in situation, thought, and expression. Its themes are gener- 
ally such as lend themselves readily to idealistic treatment. It 
deals largely with the legendary tales and chivalrous deeds 
of the past. The Waverley novels are written in the romantic 
spirit, and invest the Middle Ages with an imaginative beauty. 
In its extreme manifestation, romanticism presents what is 
unreal, fantastic, melodramatic. 

559. Realism. — Realism, as the term indicates, adheres 
to reality. It is a movement in keeping with the practical, 



334 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

scientific spirit of our age. It begins with discarding what is 
idealistic or unreal in characters and situations. It aims at 
being true to life. " For our own part," says W. D. Howells, 
the leader of the realistic school of novehsts in America, '' we 
confess that we do not care to judge any work of the imagina- 
tion without first of all applying this test to it. We must 
ask ourselves, before we ask anything else, Is it true, — true 
to the motives, the impulses, the principles, that shape the 
life of actual men and women? " For several decades the 
best fiction of Christendom has been dominated by the 
realistic spirit. It has given us faithful studies of human 
society, not as it ought to be, but as it really is. 

560. Representatives of Realism. — The three great leaders 
of realism were Tolstoi, Zola, and Ibsen. They were men of 
extraordinary genius and power, princes in the realm of 
fiction. Their works are widely read. Some of our leading 
novelists — Howells, James, Crawford — have been influenced 
by them. After acknowledging his obligations to Zola and 
Ibsen, Howells says of Tolstoi : ''As much as one merely 
human being can help another, I believe that he has helped 
me ; he has not influenced me in aesthetics only, but in ethics 
too, so that I can never again see life in the way I saw it 
before I knew him." 

561. A One-sided Realism. — As an effort truly to rep- 
resent life we must acknowledge the worth of realism. In 
its proper application, it places the novel on an immovable 
basis. It holds the mirror up to nature. Unfortunately, 
the realists have not, in many cases, been true to their funda- 
mental principles. The great leaders of realism abroad have 
been tainted with a fatal pessimism. They have seen only 
one side of life — the darker side of sin, and wretchedness, 
and despair. They often descend to what is coarse, impure, 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 335 

obscene. No doubt their pictures are true, as far as they go. 
But the fatal defect of their work is that it does not reflect 
life as a whole. It does not portray the pure and noble 
and happy side of life, which is just as real as the other. 
In this way, though our American novelists have largely 
avoided the mistake, it is possible for realism to become as 
false to human life as the wildest romanticism. 

562. New Romanticism. — Except in the hands of genius, 
realism is apt to be dull. It gives us tedious photographs. 
There are times when we do not care so much for instruction 
as for amusement and recreation. This fact opens a legitimate 
field for the imaginative story-teller. There is to-day a re- 
action against realism in the form of what has been called 
the new romanticism. It does not present to us elaborate 
studies of life, but entertains us with an interesting or exciting 
story. The leaders of this movement are the English writers, 
Doyle, Stevenson, Weyman, and Hope, whose works are ex- 
tensively read in this country. 

563. Historical Fiction. — A very notable movement in 
recent fiction is the historical novel. It comes, perhaps, 
as something of a reaction against romanticism and realism ; 
at the same time it satisfies, in a measure, the American 
thirst for knowledge. The historical novel may be regarded 
as history served up with epicurean accessories. Some of 
our recent historical fiction, apart from the stories of Re- 
construction days already mentioned, has attained a phenom- 
enal circulation. It is necessary to mention only Lew Wal- 
lace's '' Ben Hur, a Tale of the Christ " ; Mary Johnston's 
'' To Have and To Hold," a story of Colonial days in Virginia ; 
Churchill's '' Richard Carvel," a story of Maryland before 
the Revolution ; Maurice Thompson's " Alice of Old Vin- 
cennes," belonging to the period of the French and Indian 



336 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

War; and Mitchell's " Hugh Wynne " and Ford's " Janice 
Meredith," tales of the American Revolution. 

564. International Novel. — At this point it may be well to 
say a word in regard to what is known as " the international 
novel." In this species of fiction the leading characters are 
born in one country and act their parts in the society of an- 
other country. As will be readily recognized, this species 
of writing affords an excellent opportunity to present in 
striking contrast the manners and ideals of different countries, 
and especially of America and Europe. 

565. Henry James. — Henry James, who was born in New 
York in 1843, ^^7 be regarded as the inventor of the interna- 
tional novel, or at least as its most prominent representative. 
His early training and his long residence abroad have admirably 
fitted him for this species of writing. His education, which 
was of a distinctively literary type, was acquired in New 
York, Geneva, Paris, and Bonn. Since 1869 he has made his 
home chiefly in London and Paris. While several of our 
American novelists, like Howells and Crawford, have ac- 
quired, by residence abroad, a more or less intimate knowledge 
of society there, it is safe to say that no other author of our 
country has ever obtained such a thorough understanding of 
European life as Henry James. 

566. Notable Works. — In 1877 he published ''The Ameri- 
can," which is regarded by some critics as his best production. 
In this work a wealthy, self-made American is placed in the 
midst of aristocratic, cultured Parisian life. The contrasts 
are often striking and painful. In '' Daisy Miller," which 
appeared the following year, an independent, unconventional, 
and wilful girl works havoc among the social conventions of 
Rome. As will be noticed, James has not chosen the finest 
types of American life ; and in the contrasts that he presents 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 337 

he often shows a partiality for European manners and ideals. 
It is this fact that has sometimes, and perhaps not unjustly, 
invited unfriendly criticism. 

567. A Realist. — As a noveHst James is an avowed realist 
— a disciple of Balzac. He maintains that the novel should 
be a correct transcript of Hfe ; but in following out this funda- 
mental principle of realism he has avoided the mistakes of some 
of his European contemporaries. His American moral sense, 
early developed no doubt under the training of an able, high- 
minded father, has kept him from writing such contaminating 
scenes as are sometimes found in Zola and Bourget. 

568. Critic, Dramatist, Story- writer. — Henry James has 
achieved distinction in other fields of writing. He is a critic 
of high rank, as is shown in his " French Poets and Novelists " 
(1878) and his volume on Hawthorne (1879) in the English 
Men of Letters Series. He has produced successful dramas. 
As a writer of short stories he has displayed astonishing fertil- 
ity and skill. In '' A Passionate Pilgrim and Other Tales " 
(1875), '' The Madonna of the Future, and Other Tales " 
(1879), and many other volumes he shows himself a finished 
craftsman. 

569. Style. — Of Henry James it may be said that the style 
is the man. It is the expression of a refined, cosmopolitan cul- 
ture. James is, like Howells, a close observer, and therefore 
delights in details. His work is objective in character ; he 
reports what he observes; and yet there is a subtle psycho- 
logical analysis that serves as a basis of external incident and 
gives it significance. It is this psychological insight, scarcely 
inferior to that of his distinguished brother William, that lifts 
his work out of the level of the commonplace. 

Henry James is one of our most prolific authors. His 
pubHshed volumes, sometimes produced at the rate of two or 



338 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

three a year, number fifty or more. In addition to those 
aheady mentioned, "Roderick Hudson" (1875), "The Por- 
trait of a Lady " (188 1), and " An International Episode " 
(1879) may be indicated as showing his work at its best. In 
his later novels his style sometimes becomes super-refined 
and therefore less pleasing and effective. 

570. The Short Story. — The short story may be regarded 
as a new form of literature, which has been especially culti- 
vated in France and this country since the middle of the 
nineteenth century. The short story differs from the tale in 
being more artistic in form ; that is to say, more symmetrical 
in structure and more finished in style. 

Poe and Hawthorne are properly considered as the pro- 
genitors of the short story. The former was the first to lay 
down the principles of this form of writing and to exemplify 
them in practice. Brander Matthews, himself a writer of 
polished stories, has summarized the teaching of Poe as 
follows: " The short story must do one thing only, and it 
must do this completely and perfectly ; it must not loiter or 
digress ; it must have unity of action, unity of temper, unity 
of tone, unity of color, unity of effect ; and it must vigilantly 
exclude everything that might interfere with its singleness of 
intention."^ 

571. A Miniature Novel. — The short story is a miniature 
novel. It differs from the novel in being shorter, in having 
fewer characters, and in being restricted to a single effect. But, 
like the novel, it has its characters, its plot, and its setting. 
It has the advantage, as Poe pointed out, of being read at a 
single sitting and consequently of making a deep impression, 
while the novel is subjected to the disadvantage of interrupted 
perusal with its inevitable loss of effect. 

1 Brander Matthews, The Short Story, p. 26. 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 339 

572. Leading Exponents. — The short story has been en- 
couraged by the multiplication of magazines, to which it gives 
variety and interest. In large measure literature is obedient 
to the economic law of supply and demand. The short story, 
which has been gradually enriched in scope and human interest. 




Thomas Nelson Page 



has been employed, like the novel, to portray life in all parts 
of our country. Miss Jewett and Mrs. Freeman have used 
it to exhibit New England life and character; Bret Harte 
has employed it to bring before us the scenes of '49 in Cali- 
fornia; Thomas Nelson Page to describe the society of an 
older day in Virginia; Charles Egbert Craddock to give us 
glimpses of mountaineer life in Kentucky and Tennessee; 



340 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Hamlin Garland to present etchings of plain folk in Wisconsin ; 
and Jack London to unveil pictures of the frozen North. 
Other writers deserving mention are O. Henry, Myra Kelley, 
Bruno Lessing, Gouverneur Morris, Steward Edward White, 
and many more. 

573. Literary Centres. — During the first third of the 
nineteenth century the literary centre of our country was 
in New York. Cooper, Irving, Bryant, to say nothing of 
Drake, Halleck, and Paulding, resided there. Subsequently 
the centre was changed to Boston, where, or in its vicinity, 
lived Emerson, Longfellow, W.hittier, Lowell, Holmes, and 
others, who have been the chief glory of American letters. 
These two groups were successively dominant in our literature. 
At present the literary talent of our country is widely dis- 
seminated. The West and the South have entered the field 
as never before ; and in recent years writers like Bret Harte, 
Joaquin Miller, George W. Cable, Sidney Lanier, Joel Chand- 
ler Harris, Thomas Nelson Page, Miss Murfree, and many 
others, have won a fair proportion of literary laurels. 

574. Critical Independence. — Our literature has attained 
its critical independence. In forming our estimate of a 
work of art, we no longer anxiously wait for the European 
verdict. The multiplication of literary journals, as well as 
the wide prevalence of literary culture, has fostered a critical 
spirit. Stoddard, Stedman, Whipple, Howells, not to men- 
tion many others, all deserve to rank high, not only for their 
achievements in other departments of literature, but also 
for their work in criticism. In some cases, as perhaps with 
Poe, Joaquin Miller, and Walt Whitman, it has been necessary 
to set ourselves against the judgment of foreign critics, who 
are too apt to accept what is eccentric or melodramatic as 
something distinctively American. 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 34 1 

575. Female Writers. — A noteworthy feature of the 
present period is the large number of female writers. In 
both prose and poetry they have attained a high degree of 
excellence. The old theory of the intellectual inferiority of 
woman has been exploded. Admitted to the same educational 
advantages as men, whether in separate or co-educational 
institutions, our young women have proved themselves equally 
successful in study. They have found an open field in litera- 
ture, and have occupied it with eminent ability. Among 
those have achieved eminence are Elizabeth Stuart Phelps 
Ward, Helen Hunt Jackson, Mary Noailles Murfree, FKances 
Hodgson Burnett, Mary E. Wilkins, and many others. 

576. The Children's Age. — This has been called the 
children's age. Never before was the responsibility of 
training children more strongly felt. The rigorous dis- 
cipline of former times has given way to a kindly and sym- 
pathetic training. Our schools are made as attractive as 
possible. The methods of instruction are studiously ad- 
justed to child nature. The text-books are interesting in 
matter and attractive in form. Children's periodicals are 
multiplied, and in many cases are edited with eminent taste 
and ability. There never before was such a wealth of litera- 
ture for young people. Our ablest writers have not dis- 
dained to employ their talents for the entertainment and 
instruction of youth. Among the long list of those who have 
contributed to our juvenile literature are J. T. Trowbridge, 
Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, Louisa M. Alcott, Thomas Bailey 
Aldrich, Mrs. Burnett, Frank R. Stockton, and Thomas 
Nelson Page. 

577. American Humor. — Americans have a strong sense 
of humor. Nowhere else is a joke more keenly relished. 
Nearly every periodical, not excluding the religious weekly, 



342 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



has its column for wit and humor ; and not a few of our papers 
are devoted exclusively to the risible side of our nature. 
Among our writers have been a number of humorists. If 
they have not generally reached a high refinement of wit, 
they have nevertheless brought the relief of laughter to many 
a weary moment. Charles Farrar Browne ('' Artemus 

Ward") and H. W. 
Shaw C'Josh BilUngs ") 
may be regarded as 
professional humorists. 
Among those who have 
occupied a higher plane 
are Charles Dudley War- 
ner, whose humor is 
delicate in quality, and 
Samuel L. Clemens 
(" Mark Twain "), who 
deservedly ranks as our 
greatest humorist. 

578. Mark Twain. — 
Mark Twain, the pen 
name of Samuel L. 
Clemens (1835-1910), 
though commonly re- 
garded merely as a humorist, was in reality much more. 
Beneath the broad wit and humor that make his books enjoy- 
able, there was a big, active brain that was interested in 
almost every phase of life. 

579. Rugged Honesty. — He was a man of rugged, aggres- 
sive honesty. This trait made him utterly intolerant of sham ; 
and hence he did not hesitate to attack it, though entrenched 
in respectability and power, with the tremendous force of his 




Samuel Clemens ("Mark Twain") 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 343 

wit and logic. In his '^ Innocents Abroad " he constantly 
makes fun of the affected sentimentality of previous travellers. 
He attempted to correct what he believed to be a false esti- 
mate of the Hterary ability of James Fenimore Cooper. He 
nobly came to the defence of Harriet Shelley against the white- 
washing biographer of her husband. He did not believe in 
'^ Christian Science " ; and with all the wit of grotesque 
exaggeration and all the force of serious, massive logic he 
attempted to set forth what he believed to be its folly and 
false pretence. 

580. An American Author. — Mark Twain was a distinc- 
tively American author. His best works, such as "Roughing 
It," " Tom Sawyer," and '' Huckleberry Finn," reflect types 
and phases of American life. In a style remarkable for its 
graphic force and illumined by incomparable touches of humor- 
ously exaggerated description he has portrayed the riches of 
his own abundant experience. 

His life was rich and varied ; most of his writings are 
autobiographical. His formal education did not extend 
beyond that of the common school; but as a printer, steam- 
boat pilot on the Mississippi, newspaper man, and miner in 
the far West, he acquired the larger education of American 
life in forms that in many respects have forever passed 
away. 

581. Influence. — His influence was on the side of right. 
" He used his gift," to adopt the words of Dr. Van Dyke in 
his Memorial Address, *' not for evil, but for good. The 
atmosphere of his work is clean and wholesome. He made 
fun without hatred. He laughed many of the world's false 
claimants out of court, and entangled many of the world's false 
witnesses in the net of ridicule. In his best books and stories, 
colored with his own experiences, he touched the absurdities 



344 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

of life with penetrating, but not unkindly mockery, and made 
us feel somehow the infinite pathos of life's realities." 

His last years were filled with the sorrow of disappointment 
and bereavement. He lost his buoyant, hopeful outlook on 
life ; and at the last this big-hearted and gifted man, whose 
wit and humor have added to the sum of human happiness, 
fell under the spell of a cynical pessimism. 

582. Place of Poetry. - — Poetry is less prominent in our 
literature than during the reign of Longfellow, Whittier, 
and Lowell. Since the death of the great singers of the 
earlier part of the nineteenth century at home and abroad, 
no one has risen to take their place. There is no dearth 
of poets, but they belong to the lower ranges of song. The 
poetry of the present time is artistic rather than creative, 
refined rather than powerful. The present may be regarded 
as an age of prose. Fiction largely predominates. But the 
sphere of poetry is the highest in Hterature. It is the language 
of seers ; and when the fulness of time again comes, there 
will no doubt arise great singers, to give expression to the 
highest thought and noblest aspirations of our race. 

583. Geographical Groups. — The writers of the present 
or Second National Period may be divided, in a general 
way, into four geographical groups, namely. New England, 
the Middle Atlantic States, the South, and the Middle and 
Far West. As would be naturally expected from the large 
increase of our population and from the growing intelli- 
gence of our people, there is a larger number of writers 
than ever before. A reference to the list prefixed to this 
period will show the increasing prominence of Southern 
and Western writers. It will be noted, also, that theol- 
ogy is relatively less prominent, as is history also; on the 
other hand, there is an increase in poetry of the second order, 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 



345 



and an astonishing development of fiction. It is in these two 
fields that the literary talent of our country is at present 
chiefly engaged. 



I. New England 

584. Thomas Bailey Aldrich. — Thomas Bailey Aldrich 
was a New Englander by birth and spent a large part of 
his life in that part 
of our country. He 
is both a poet and 
prose-writer, and in 
each field exhibits 
fine artistic qualities. 
No other writer of 
the New England 
group deserves, per- 
haps, a higher rank. 
As often happens, 
the poetic impulse 
manifested itself 
early ; and his first 
volume of verse, 
" The Bells," ap- 
peared in 1854, when 
he was only eighteen. 
His '^Ballad of 
Babie Bell, and Other 

Poems " was issued two years later, and established his repu- 
tation as a poet. 

585. '' Story of a Bad Boy." — He received his education 
in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. He has preserved the 




Thomas Bailey Aldrich 



346 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

incidents of those days in '' The Story of a Bad Boy," which 
was published in 1869. It is largely autobiographical, but 
the facts hardly justify the title. His earlier manhood was 
spent in New York, first in the counting-room of an uncle, 
and afterwards as reader for a publishing house, and editor of 
various papers. During this New York period he established 
warm friendships with other writers, among whom Stedman, 
Stoddard, and Bayard Taylor deserve to be mentioned. 

586. Editorial Activities. — In 1866 he moved to Boston, 
where he became editor of Every Saturday, an ambitious 
literary paper. Though deserving success, it failed in 1874. 
A few years later, in 1881, he became editor of The Atlantic 
Monthly, to which he had long been a welcome contributor. 
He displayed admirable editorial ability; and it is to his 
credit that he recognized the abiUty of several young writers, 
— Charles Egbert Craddock, Sarah Orne Jewett, Louise 
Imogen Guiney, — who have since become well known in 
our literary annals. 

587. Character of his Work. — Mr. Aldrich's literary 
activity was pretty well divided between poetry and prose. 
Among his prose works of fiction are " Marjorie Daw and 
Other Stories" (1873), ''Prudence Palfrey" (1874), '' The 
Queen of Sheba " (1877), and "The Stillwater Tragedy" 
(1880). Along with artistic delicacy there is the expression 
of a humorous and genial nature; " a deftness of touch," to 
use the words of Scudder, " a sureness of aim, a piquancy of 
flavor, a playfulness of wit, a delicacy of humor," that make 
his stories perfectly delightful reading. But Aldrich's fame 
is ultimately to rest, perhaps, on his poetry, of which there is 
now a collective edition. His poems are as delicate in crafts- 
manship as they are refined in thought and sentiment. His 
poetic creed is to be found in one of his sonnets : — 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 



347 



"Let art be all in all ; 
Build as thou wilt, unspoiled by praise or blame, 
Build as thou wilt, and as thy light is given : 
Then if at last the airy structure fall, 
Dissolve, and vanish — take thyself no shame. 
They fail, and they alone, who have not striven." 



588. Charles Dudley Warner. — Charles Dudley Warner 
was a writer of much 
versatility. He was 
editor, essayist, and 
novelist. He was one 
of the most refined 
of our humorists ; but 
his reputation as a 
humorist, as in the 
case of some other 
writers, has rendered 
his serious work more 
difficult of acceptance. 
The public is apt to 
persist in its refusal to 
take the humorist seri- 
ously. It is a tribute 
to the ability and worth 
of Mr. Warner that he 
was heedfully listened 
to when he treated seri- 
ously of practical life. 

589. Editorial and 
Other Work. — After 

graduation in law at the University of Pennsylvania, he 
practised his profession for a time in Chicago. In i860 he 




Charles Dudley Warner 



348 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

was called to Hartford as assistant editor of The Press; 
and after the consolidation of the paper with The Courant in 
1867, he became co-editor with Joseph R. Hawley, and re- 
tained his connection with the paper till the time of his death. 
His literary work, which is considerable in amount, was done 
in spare moments snatched from his editorial duties. *' My 
Summer in a Garden," published in 1870, established his rep- 
utation as a refined humorist. " The principal value of a 
private garden," he says, '' is not understood. It is not to 
give the possessor vegetables and fruit (that can be better 
and cheaper done by the market-gardeners), but to teach him 
patience and philosophy, and the higher virtues, — hope 
deferred, and expectations blighted, leading directly to res- 
ignation, and sometimes to alienation." In a similar vein 
are " Back-log Studies " (1872), '' Baddeck and That Sort of 
Thing " (1874), and '' In the Wilderness " (1878). 

590. Books of Travel. — Warner travelled extensively in 
Europe and in the Orient, and naturally recorded his impres- 
sions in editorial letters to The Courant. In 1872 a collection 
of these letters was published under the title " Saunterings." 
Other books of travel are '' My Winter on the Nile " (1876), 
and ''In the Levant" (1877). These books of travel are 
unusually interesting. The author's keen observation is 
re-enforced from time to time by delightful touches of humor 
and satire. He has an exceedingly neat way of puncturing 
pretension and humbug. 

591. Varied Literary Labors. — For the '' American Men 
of Letters Series," of which he was the general editor, he 
wrote '' Washington Irving," a sympathetic biographical study 
published in 1881. It is one of the most delightful volumes 
in the series to which it belongs. He became one of the 
editors of Harper's Magazine in 1884, and was not an unworthy 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 



349 



successor of George William Curtis in the department of the 
Easy Chair. '' On Horseback through the South " is an im- 
partial record of observations and impressions. This work, 
which appeared in 1888, excited a noteworthy influence in 
removing misapprehensions fostered at the North by un- 
informed or self-seeking politicians. In his later years 
Warner tried his hand at 
fiction, and wrote " Their 
Pilgrimage," '^ A Little Jour- 
ney in the World," and '' The 
Golden House." But, with 
all his versatility, he was 
not destined to high achieve- 
ment in this department of 
literature ; and his novels, 
while displaying to a greater 
or less degree the literary 
charm of his other writings, 
somehow lack vitality and 
power. 

592. Edward Everett 
Hale. — Edward Everett 
Hale belonged to an old New 
England family of decided 
literary tastes. His father and elder brother were journalists, 
and his sister Lucretia was a magazine writer and author. 
He was graduated at Harvard in 1839, and at once became 
a teacher in the Latin School of Boston. In 1842 he was 
licensed as a Unitarian minister, and a few years later became 
pastor of the South Congregational Church, Boston, where 
he remained till his death in 1909. Though less brilliant as a 
speaker than many of his contemporaries, there are none, 




Edward Everett Hale 



350 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

perhaps, who were more active and more successful in philan- 
thropic work. 

593. Editorial Work. — He did much editorial work in 
connection with the Christian Examiner, the Sunday School 
Gazette, and the Old and New, which was subsequently 
merged into Scrihner^s Monthly. He was not only an able 
writer himself, but an excellent judge of the productions 
of others and of the demands of public taste. It was in 
Old and New that his " Ten Times One is Ten " was first 
published, a work that led to the organization of charitable 
clubs numbering in the aggregate fully fifty thousand. 
*' In His Name," a story of the Waldenses, issued in 1874, 
has exerted a moral and religious influence scarcely less 
extended. 

594. Famous Stories. — Hale won recognition as a gifted 
writer by his story of '' My Double and How He Un- 
did Me," published in The Atlantic Monthly in 1859. It is a 
story that well deserves a place in the volume entitled 
'' Modern Classics." One of his most famous stories is 
" The Man without a Country," a piece of realistic writ- 
ing not inferior to that of Defoe. It served to intensify 
national feeling during the Civil War. '' The Skeleton in 
the Closet " is another short story that has attained a wide 
popularity. 

595. Many-Sided Activity. — The literary activity of 
Hale was many-sided. He wrote a dozen historical works, 
including a "Life of Washington" (1887), "Franklin in 
France" (1887), and a "United States History" for the 
Chautauqua circles, a work with which he was long identified. 
" For Fifty Years " is a collection of poems. In all his writings 
he exhibits a manly, helpful spirit, not unlike his hero, Henry 
Wadsworth, whose motto was, — 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 351 

"Look up, and not down ; 
Look forward, and not back ; 
Look out, and not in ; 
And lend a hand." 

596. Group of Literary Women. — During this Second 
National Period, New England has produced a remark- 
able group of literary women. In number and ability they 
fairly vie with the authors of the opposite sex. Their prin- 
cipal writings are fiction and poetry, and a few of them, as 
Rose Terry Cooke, Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward, Lucy 
Larcom, and others, have distinguished themselves in both. 
Other members of this group are Margaret Wade Deland, 
Sarah Orne Jewett, Adeline D. T. Whitney, Louisa M. Al- 
cott, Louise Chandler Moulton, Mary A. Dodge ('' Gail 
Hamilton ")? Celia Thaxter, Mary E. Wilkins, and Louise 
Imogen Guiney. For biographical data and a list of their 
works, the brief notices prefixed to this period are to be con- 
sulted. 

2: The Middle States 

597. Prominence. — The Middle Atlantic States have a 
prominent place in American literature in the period under 
consideration. New York may be regarded as at present 
the literary centre of our country. This enviable position 
it holds by reason of its large number of writers, its great 
periodicals, and its prominent publishing houses. 

598. William Dean Ho wells. — William Dean Howells, 
though brought up in Ohio, has spent his best years of liter- 
ary activity in New York. Like so many other men of 
letters, he possesses great versatility of genius, and has filled 
many roles in the literary world. He has been poet, editor, 



352 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



critic, dramatist, and novelist, though it is in the last that 
he has won a distinguishing eminence. He has never taken 
poetry very seriously; indeed, he says in one of his books, 
" I think it should be a flavor, a spice, a sweet, a delicate 
relish in the high banquet of literature." 

599. Home Influence. — Howells sprang from a family 
of literary taste. His father was specially fond of poetry, 

and in his auto- 
biographic work, 
''A Boy's Town," 
our author men- 
tions the fact 
that his father 
was accustomed 
to read to the 
family after the 
day's work was 
done. Young 
Howells' love of 
reading was un- 
usual ; and, as 
he tells us in the 
very enjoyable 
book '' My Liter- 
ary Passions," he 
early made the 
acquaintance of 
Goldsmith, Ir- 
ving, Scott, and 
the other princi- 
pal writers of England and America. Without a collegiate 
education, his literary culture was based on a wide and 




William Dean Howells 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 353 

thorough acquaintance with what is best in English litera- 
ture. 

600. Consul at Venice. — In i860, while connected with 
the editorial staff of the Ohio State Journal, he wrote an ex- 
cellent campaign life of Abraham Lincoln. This resulted, 
a little later, in his appointment as United States consul at 
Venice. With the irresistible impulses of a born author, 
he turned the experience of his three years' sojourn abroad to 
literary account in his '' Venetian Life " (1866) and '' Ital- 
ian Journeys " (1867). These sketches contain a great deal 
of shrewd observation and genial humor. 

601. Magazine Editor. — In 1866 Howells became assist- 
ant editor of The Atlantic Monthly, and in 187 1 succeeded 
James T. Fields as editor. He filled this position for ten 
years with signal ability, and then resigned in order to devote 
himself more fully to original literary production. In 1886 
he formed a connection with the firm of Harper and Brothers, 
and contributed many admirable papers to the Editor's 
Study of their magazine. He there brought a severe indict- 
ment»against American criticism, affirming that critics '' were 
perilously beset by temptations to be personal, to be vulgar, 
to be arrogant, which they did not always overcome." 

602. Realistic Novels. — Howells entered upon his career 
as a novelist in 187 1 with the publication of " Their Wed- 
ding Journey." Almost every year since that time has seen 
the appearance of a new work of fiction. Among the most 
important of the long list may be mentioned " The Undis- 
covered Country " (1880), ^' A Fearful Responsibility " 
(1882), "A Modern Instance" (1883), ''The Rise of Silas 
Lapham " (1885), and '' A Hazard of New Fortunes " (1889). 
Howells may be regarded as the leader of realism in America, 
a disciple of Tolstoi, for whom he expresses great admira- 



354 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



tion. He attempts to describe life as it is ; and by his insight, 
humor, and careful elaboration he succeeds in throwing 
around commonplace people and incidents a peculiar charm. 
It is greatly to his credit that, unlike most of the French 
realists, he avoids portraying the criminal and the obscene. 
But it must be added that hfe, as portrayed in his works, is 

petty and shallow. 

603. Edmund Clarence 
Stedman. — Edmund 
Clarence Stedman came of 
New England stock. Sus- 
pended from Yale College 
in his junior year for some 
escapade or other, he 
entered journalism and 
worked on the New York 
Tribune, and afterwards 
on the New York World. 
He was a diligent worker 
and acquired valual^le ex- 
perience, but displayed no 
brilliant aptitude as a 
journalist. He later be- 
came a stock-broker, and 
experienced in a long connection with Wall Street many 
vicissitudes of fortune. But the wealth that he probably 
longed for in order to be able to give himself entirely to 
literary pursuits never came to him. 

604. " Poems, Lyric and Idyllic." — Stedman was early 
drawn to literature, and at college won a prize with a poem 
on " Westminster Abbey." His newspaper work did not 
entirely win him away from the poetic muse ; and in i860 




Edmund Clarence Stedman 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 355 

he published a volume entitled " Poems, Lyric and Idyllic." 
Though the volume contained nothing very striking, yet 
it was favorably received. It had a youthful tone, con- 
tained reminiscences of college days, and betrayed the 
poet's study of Tennyson, particularly in the " Flood- 
Tide." The only reference to current political events was 
the poem " How Brown Took Harper's Ferry," the last stanza 
of which, in the light of subsequent events, appears prophetic. 

605. Two Poetic Ventures. — The following decade wit- 
nessed considerable poetic activity. In 1864 appeared 
" Alice of Monmouth," an idyl of the Civil War. It is a 
romantic story in various metres, the very poetry of which 
will keep it from ever being popular. The best-known pas- 
sage is the " Cavalry Song " : — 

"Our good steeds snuff the evening air, 
Our pulses with their purpose tingle ; 
The foeman's fires are twinkling there ; 
He leaps to hear our sabres jingle ! 

HALT ! 
Each carbine sends its whizzing ball : 
Now, cling ! clang ! forward all, 
Into the fight ! " 

" The Blameless Prince " (1869) is a delicately volup- 
tuous tale, the moral of which is that saintUness in human Ufe 
is only hypocrisy in disguise ; or, as the poet phrases it : — 

''He who brightest is, and best, 
Still may fear the secret test 

That shall try his heart aright." 

In spite of its exquisite artistic quality, the poem is at 
once a surprise and regret to the friends of the poet. 

606. Several Notable Poems. — Among the author's mis- 
cellaneous poems deserving mention, as found in the House- 



356 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

hold Edition, are '* Laura, My Darling," addressed to his 
wife, '' The Doorstep," a delicious reminiscence of youth, 
" Pan in Wall Street," an exquisite combination of fancy 
and humor, and " The Undiscovered Country," which vi- 
brates with an earnest reflective note, struck by our poet only 
too seldom : — 

" Could we but know 
The land that ends our dark, uncertain travel, 

Where lie those happier hills and meadows low, — 
Ah, if beyond the spirit's inmost cavil, 

Aught of that country could we surely know, 
Who would not go?" 

607. A Literary Artist. — Stedman's poetry is charac- 
terized by a deKcate finish and nimble play of fancy. But 
it is the work of a skilful literary artist rather than of a seer. 
He had no message for his age, and as a rule his poetry plays 
only about the surface of things. It is lacking in deep moral 
earnestness. 

608. Critical Work. — But Stedman's work extended be- 
yond the bounds of poetry; he was a critic and literary 
historian as well. It is in these fields that he won, perhaps, 
the strongest claim upon our gratitude. His " Victorian 
Poets " appeared in 1875, and a companion volume, " The 
Poets of America," in 1876. Both volumes have been widely 
read and represent American criticism at its best. Stedman 
exhibits a large, catholic spirit; he is generous in the recog- 
nition of merit; and he rarely errs in his judgment. Ex- 
cessive refinement of style is, perhaps, the chief defect in these 
volumes of criticism. " The Nature and Art of Poetry " 
(1892), first delivered as a series of lectures at Johns Hopkins 
University, is unsurpassed in lucidity and thoroughness 
of treatment. He defines poetry as " rhythmical, imag- 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 



357 



inative language, expressing the invention, taste, thought, 
passion, and insight of the human soul." 

609. Anthologies. — Among his other works are " A 
Library of American Literature " (1888-1891), prepared 
in collaboration with Miss Ellen M. Hutchinson ; ^' A Vic- 
torian Anthology," to illustrate his critical review of British 
poetry during the reign of Victoria ; and " An American 
Anthology," to serve as a companion volume to his '' Review 
of American Poetry in the Nineteenth Century." No other 
American was better fitted for this editorial work, and these 
volumes of selections will long stand as a monument to the 
author's taste and judgment. By his varied labors Stedman 
won an honorable 
and lasting place in 
American letters. 

610. Richard Henry 
Stoddard. — The Ufe 
of Richard Henry 
Stoddard is an in- 
spiration ; it shows 
the triumph of liter- 
ary genius over un- 
toward circumstances. 
His early life was 
given to the trade 
of iron-moulding ; he 
was deprived of edu- 
cation beyond that 
afforded in the public 
schools ; yet, in spite 
of his unfavorable surroundings, he finally won a creditable 
place in American letters. 




Richard Henry Stoddard 



358 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

611. Literary Aspirations. — Most of his life was spent 
in New York. Through the toilsome years of his youth 
he cherished literary aspirations, and enlarged his culture 
by diligent reading, especially among the poets. Later he 
enjoyed the friendship of such men as Bayard Taylor, Sted- 
man, and Aldrich. His contributions to newspapers and 
magazines gained for him the reputation of a young man of 
ability. His literary career may be fairly dated from 1852, 
when he published a volume of poems that bore the impress 
of genius. Afterwards, at intervals more or less extended, 
appeared successive volumes of poetry, most of which may 
be found in the collective edition of 1880. 

612. Poetic Quality. — Stoddard's poetry covers a wide 
range, but does not possess great depth. He did not under- 
take to solve any of the great problems of life. He was a 
harper rather than a seer. He is best in his brief lyrics, in 
which he exhibits the same deft handling that characterizes 
Aldrich and Stedman. He has a keen sense of the beautiful, 
and at times touches a sad and pathetic note, as in '' The 
Flight of Youth " : — 

"There are gains for all our losses, 

There are balms for all our pain ; 
But when youth, the dream, departs, 
It takes something from our hearts, 

And it never comes again." 

613. Earning a Livelihood. — Stoddard never enjoyed 
the leisure of opulence. The cares of earning a livelihood 
constantly weighed upon him. He held a position in the 
custom-house of New York for seventeen years, served as 
private secretary to General George B. McClellan for three 
years, and was city librarian in 1874. During all these 
years his pen was not idle, and he accomplished a large amount 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 359 

of literary work ; but much of it, though conscientiously and 
ably done, belonged to what is known as the " pot-boiling " 
kind. 

614. A Melancholy Tone. — It is painful to note that 
the burdensome years tinged his later verse with a melan- 
choly hue. The hard reaHties of life took away his buoyant 
hopefulness. The change is seen in ''An Old Song Reversed" : 

"'There are gains for all our losses,' 
So I said when I was young. 
If I sang that song again, 
'Twould not be with that refrain, 
Which but suits an idle tongue. 



No, the words I sang were idle. 

And will ever so remain ; 
Death, and Age, and vanished Youth 
All declare this bitter truth, 

There's a loss for every gain." 

615. Frank R. Stockton. — Francis Richard Stockton, 
better known as Frank R. Stockton, the name on his title- 
pages, is one of our most original writers. His literary in- 
di\iduality is almost as clearly marked as that of Hawthorne 
or Poe. There is a quaintness or incongruity in his plots 
and situations that places him among the most refined of 
American humorists. He tells an impossible or absurd story, 
as in "A Tale of Negative Gravity," with an imperturbable 
serenity. His style is as simple and matter-of-fact as that 
of Defoe. 

616. Earlier Years. — Stockton was born in Philadel- 
phia in 1834, and graduated at the Central High School. 
He belonged to a literary family, and as a schoolboy won 



360 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



a prize for a story. His first important story, " Kate," 
after being rejected by various editors, appeared in the 
Southern Literary Messenger in 1859. Though immature, 
it contains suggestions of the pecuHar vein developed in the 

work of his later 
years. 

617. Various Lit- 
erary Labors. — 
Though his father 
wished him to study 
medicine, he took up 
wood-engraving, by 
which, for the next 
few years, he earned 
a livelihood. But 
his Hterary tastes 
were not extin- 
guished, and he be- 
came a frequent 
contributor to the 
periodical press. At 
length he gave up 
his trade of wood- 
engraving, and 
joined the staff of 
the Philadelphia 
Morning Post. A story contributed to Scrihner in 1872, 
'' Stephen Skarridge's Christmas," attracted the attention 
of the editor, Dr. J. G. Holland, who induced the author 
to move to New York. He became assistant editor of 
Scrihner^ s Monthly ; and on the estabhshment of St. Nicholas 
in 1873, he was added to its editorial staff. The '' Rudder 




Frank R. Stockton 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 36 1 

Grange " series, which appeared in Scribner in 1878, made 
him famous. 

618. Noteworthy Volumes. — He resigned his editorial 
work in 1882 in order to give himself entirely to original 
composition. Till his death in 1903 he remained a fre- 
quent contributor of dehghtful sketches to our leading maga- 
zines, and almost every year he published some noteworthy 
book. Among these may be mentioned " The Late Mrs. 
Null " (1886), '' The Casting Away of Mrs. Leeks and Mrs. 
Aleshine" (1886), ''The Dusantes " (1888), "The Great 
War Syndicate" (1889), "The House of Martha" (1891), 
"Pomona's Travels" (1895), "The Girl at Cobhurst " 
(1898), and many others. 

619. Short Stories. — Stockton is best in his short stories, 
the most noted of which is " The Lady or the Tiger? " But 
there are others scarcely less interesting, as " The Remark- 
able Wreck of the Thomas Hyde," "A Tale of Negative 
Gravity," " His Wife's Deceased Sister," and " The Clover- 
fields' Carriage." " With a gentle, ceaseless murmur of 
amusement," to quote a friendly critic, " and a flickering 
twinkle of smiles, the story moves steadily on in the calm 
triumph of its assured and unassailable absurdity, its logical 
and indisputable impossibihty." 

620. Walt Whitman. — Walt Whitman is a puzzle to 
critics — a unique figure in American literature. He had 
neither predecessors nor followers. He has a number of 
warm partisans at home and abroad, but he has never been 
a popular poet. He expressed himself as willing to wait for 
appreciation ; but the probabiHty is that posterity will be as 
unresponsive as his contemporaries have been. 

621. Largeness of Spirit. — It is well to inquire into the 
merits which have gained him a circle of warm friends, such 



362 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 




Walt Whitman 
dignity and worth of humanity. 



as Burroughs and Emer- 
son in America, and 
Professor Dowden in 
England. Perhaps the 
most notable charac- 
teristic of Whitman is 
his largeness of spirit 
and his vigorous type of 
manhood. He did not 
write lyrics '' to his mis- 
tress' eyebrows." His 
gaze was as broad as 
the continent, and em- 
braced every class of 
people and every voca- 
tion of life. With some- 
thing of Shakespeare's 
breadth, he saw beneath 
the accidents of fortune 
and the wrappings of 
conventionality the 
He loved mankind ; and 



his broad spirit of democracy recognized no inferiority of 
sex. Hence he exclaims : — 

"I am the poet of the woman the same as the man, 
And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man, 
And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men. 

**I chant the chant of dilation or pride, 
We have had ducking and deprecation about enough, 
I show that size is only development. 

"Have you outstript the rest? are you the President? 
It is a trifle, they will more than arrive there every one, and still pass on. 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 363 

I am he that walks with the tender and growing night, 
I call to the earth and sea, half -held by the night." 

622. Various Occupations. — The circumstances of Whit- 
man's life gave him a wide acquaintance with men and man- 
ners. He was born on Long Island in 1819 ; and after 
acquiring an elementary education, he became in succession 
a teacher, printer, editor, and carpenter. He took up his 
residence for a time in New York. Later he made a leisurely 
tour through the Southern and Western States, stopping to 
work whenever his means became exhausted. During the 
Civil War he was a hospital nurse, and afterwards a clerk 
in the Treasury Department. Finally in 1873, he settled in 
Camden, New Jersey, which remained his home till his death 
in 1892. 

623. Outdoor Life. —Like Sir Walter Scott and James 
Fenimore Cooper, Whitman enjoyed outdoor life. Men 
were more to him than books. He loved the freedom of 
the far-reaching sky and the exhilaration of exercise in the 
open air. The earth and sky were little short of intoxica- 
tion to him. In his " Song of the Open Road " he says : — 

"Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road 
Healthy, free, the world before me. 

The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. 
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune. 
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing. 
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticism, 
Strong and content I travel the open road." 

624. A Mystical Element. — In spite of the ruggedness 
of his nature, Whitman had a mystical element in his soul. 
He not only rejoiced in the external splendors of Nature, but 
he fancied that they had a meaning and voice. In his poem 



364 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

" When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloomed " there is a 
fine passage in which this mysticism is clearly revealed : — 

"O western orb sailing the heaven, 
Now I know what you must have meant as a month since I walk'd, 
As I walk'd in silence the transparent shadowy night, 
As I saw you had something to tell as you bent to me night after night, 
As you droop' d from the sky low down as if to my side (while the 

other stars all looked on) , 
As we wander'd together the solemn night." 

625. Healthy Optimism. — Whitman, like Burns, had a 
fellow-feeling for the lower orders of the animal kingdom. 
The bird, as it poured forth its song from the midst of the 
swamp, was his " dearest brother." He sang also a healthy 
optimism. While he recognized the toils and sorrows of 
men, he believed that the end of all human struggle and 
suffering was something higher and better. So he sings : — 

''Forever alive, forever forward, 
Stately, solemn, sad, withdrawn, baffled, mad, turbulent, feeble, dis- 
satisfied, 
Desperate, proud, fond, sick, accepted by men, rejected by men. 
They go ! they go ! I know that they go, but I know not where they go, 
But I know that they go toward the best — toward something great." 

626. Lack of Artistic Sense. — These are characteristics 
of a great-souled poet. Where, then, are the shortcom- 
ings that prevented a general and generous recognition of 
Whitman's worth? They are found in his wilful disre- 
gard of literary traditions and in his lack of a dehcate artistic 
sense. Much of his work falls below the level of respectable 
prose, and at his best the poet is not without the offence of 
an obtrusive innovation. He has whole paragraphs made 
up of a crude enumeration of unpoetical objects. Take, for 
example, the following : — 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 365 

"You flagged walks of the cities! you strong curbs at the edges ! 
You ferries ! you planks and posts of wharves ! you timber-lined sides ! 

you distant ships! 
You rows of houses ! you window-pierced fagades ! you roofs ! 
You porches and entrances! you copings and iron guards !" etc. 

Such a passage is not poetry ; at the most it can be regarded 
only as the raw materials of poetry. It is comparable to a 
collection of stones, bricks, and lumber out of which a beauti- 
ful mansion is to be reared. It too often happens — perhaps 
one might say it generally happens — that Whitman gets no 
farther than this preliminary collection of materials. Yet 
what he might have done had he adopted the recognized forms 
of poetic art is shown in the last stanza of " O Captain, My 
Captain," a noble threnody, in which he unconsciously falls 
into metre and rhyme : — 

"My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and stiU; 
My father does not feel my arm, he has not pulse nor will ; 
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done ! 
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won : ; 
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells! 
But I with mournful tread. 

Walk the deck my Captain lies, 
Fallen, cold, and dead." 

3. The South 

627. Literary Prominence. — A remarkable feature of 
this period is the Hterary prominence of the South. Since 
the Civil War and the social changes it brought about, a 
group of young and vigorous writers has sprung up and con- 
quered recognition in the field of letters. They breathe the 
larger life that has come to our country; and with no fond 
clinging to a provincial spirit, they exhibit the breadth of a 



366 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

cosmopolitan culture. There is no weak imitation of foreign 
models, but a clear and successful effort, in both poetry and 
fiction, to paint nature and life as they are. 

628. Rich Literary Materials. — The writers of whom 
we are speaking have discovered that Southern landscape 
and Southern hfe are rich in Hterary materials. Nearly every 
State in the South has furnished incident, character, and 
scenery for novels and poems. Cable has portrayed the 
Creole Hfe of Louisiana ; Page has depicted Hfe in Virginia 
and South CaroHna ; Joel Chandler Harris has rescued the 
negro folklore of Georgia; Miss Murfree has brought before 
us the mountaineers of Tennessee ; Allen has described scenes 
and incidents n Kentucky ; Lanier pictures the marshes and 
corn-fields of Georgia ; and Miss Johnston revives the colo- 
nial life of the old Dominion. In some of these works we 
find a literary talent and a literary art unsurpassed in any other 
part of our country. 

629. George W. Cable. — George W. Cable was one of 
the first of the younger race of Southern writers to win liter- 
ary distinction. This he did with a series of short stories, 
first published in Scrihner and afterwards issued in a volume 
entitled '' Old Creole Days." These stories had the merit of 
introducing an entirely new element into American fiction ; 
and apart from their novelty, they were told with literary 
grace and dramatic power. 

630. Earlier Career. — Cable was born and reared in 
New Orleans. His father came from Virginia, and his mother 
from New England. He was trained in the school of adver- 
sity, and as a youth bore the burden of supporting the family. 
In 1863 he entered the Confederate army, and served till the 
close of the war. The scars he bears witness to his courage. 
He was for a time attached to the staff of the Picayune, but 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 



367 



lost his position because, to use his own words, " as a reporter 
I was a failure." He was employed as clerk in a cotton- 
broker's office when his Uterary career began. 

631. Principal Works. — His first considerable work was 
''The Grandissimes " (1880), which appeared serially in 
Scribner. It is a description of New Orleans life in the early 
part of the last century. 

Creole Hfe and character 
are graphically portrayed. 
This work introduced the 
patois of the Creoles at a 
time when dialect writing 
was not yet overdone. It 
was followed by " Madame 
Delphine " in 1881, and 
'' Dr. Sevier " in 1883. 
The stories collected in 
'' Bonaventure " (1877) do 
not add notably to the 
author's reputation. 

632. The Negro Ques- 
tion. — In 1885 Cable re- 
moved to Massachusetts. He has written on the social and 
political questions of the day ; and his pamphlet, " The Negro 
Question," in which he gave \igorous expression to senti- 
ments not generally entertained in the South, excited a good 
deal of ill-feeling against him. It is his distinction as a 
novehst to have portrayed a unique and vanishing type of 
civilization with admirable skill. 

633. Mary Noailles Murfree. — Another prominent figure 
in the new school of Southern fiction is Mary Noailles Mur- 
free, better known by the pseudonym of '' Charles Egbert 




George VV. Cable 



368 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Craddock." She was born in 1850 near Murfreesboro, Ten- 
nessee, a town named in honor of her great-grandfather, who 
served with distinction as a colonel in the Revolutionary War. 
Lamed for Hfe by an accident in childhood, she turned to 
books for a pastime and made herself familiar with the hter- 
ary treasures of our language. The summer home of the 

family in its days of pros- 
perity was at Beersheba in 
the Tennessee mountains ; 
and it was there that Miss 
Murfree accumulated the 
materials of scenery, inci- 
dent, and character which 
she afterwards was to turn 
to such excellent account. 
She added a new realm to 
American Hterature. 

634. '' In the Tennessee 
Mountains." — Miss Mur- 
free's first notable contribu- 
tion to Hterature was ''The 
Dancin' Party at Harrison's 
Cove," which appeared in 
The Atlantic Monthly in 1878, under the name of " Charles 
Egbert Craddock." Other stories, graphically portraying 
life in the same region, followed at brief intervals. In 1884 
they were collected in a volume entitled '' In the Tennessee 
Mountains," which at once placed the writer in the foremost 
rank of our story-tellers. 

635. Other Works. — Encouraged by her success. Miss 
Murfree undertook larger works, and at brief intervals ap- 
peared '' Down the Ravine " (1885), '' The Prophet of the 




Mary Noailles Murfree 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 



369 



Great Smoky Mountain " (1885), '' In the Clouds " (1887), 
" The Story of Keedon Bluffs " (1887), and other works. She 
is a conscientious worker. She understands thoroughly the 
scenes and characters she describes. The life of the moun- 
taineers of east- 
ern Tennessee, 
together with 
the rude dia- 
lect they speak, 
is accurately 
brought before 
us. She is es- 
pecially strong 
in descriptions 
of natural scen- 
ery ; and some 
of her pictures 
of the mountain 
clouds and sun- 
lit splendors re- 
call the glowing 
Alpine or Italian 
landscapes of 
Ruskin. 

636. Sidney 
Lanier. — The 
life of Sidney 

Lanier, the South's strongest singer since the Civil War, is 
unutterably sad. Gifted with genius of a high order, he was 
fettered by unfavorable circumstances. His life became a 
hard struggle ; and though he fought heroically against disease 
and poverty, he had to leave his work unfinished. As in the 




Sidney Lanier 



370 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

case of Keats, we can only surmise what he might have ac- 
complished for the world of letters if his life had been spared 
for the larger achievement of which he dreamed. 

637. Musical Gifts. — He was born at Macon, Georgia, 
in 1842, of mingled French and Scotch ancestry. The fun- 
damental element of his genius was music ; and while yet a 
boy he played the flute, organ, piano, \dolin, guitar, and 
banjo. On the flute he ultimately became one of the best 
players in America. He was educated at Oglethorpe College, 
where he was graduated in i860 ; he then filled a tutorship 
there till the beginning of the War. Like most men of un- 
usual endowment, he was conscious of his superior powers, 
and wrote in his college note-book, '' I have an extraordinary 
musical talent, and feel it within me plainly that I could rise 
as high as any composer." 

638. Military Service. — On the breaking out of the Civil 
War he entered the Confederate army and saw hard service, 
particularly in the seven days' fighting around Richmond. 
He was afterwards transferred to the signal service, and later 
he commanded a blockade runner. His vessel, however, 
was captured on its first trip, and he was imprisoned for five 
months at Point Lookout. His war experience he embodied 
in the hastily written novel, " Tiger Lilies," which was pub- 
lished in 1867. 

639. In Baltimore. — After the war he held a clerkship, 
taught school, and practised law ; but at the same time he 
found it necessary to begin his long battle with pulmonary 
consumption, of which he died in 1881. In 1873 he became 
first flute in the Peabody symphony concerts, — an engage- 
ment that brought him musical and literary associations for 
which his soul had longed. He believed that a poet had need 
of large attainments on which as materials his genius might 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 371 

work. The trouble with Poe, he thought, was inadequate 
knowledge. Accordingly he devoted himself to English 
literature, including Anglo-Saxon, with scholarly enthusiasm. 

640. Centennial Cantata. — In 1874, when on a visit 
to Georgia, he wrote the poem '' Corn," which appeared 
in LippincoWs Magazine. It attracted considerable atten- 
tion from literary persons, among whom was Bayard Taylor. 
At his suggestion, Lanier was chosen to write the Cantata for 
the opening of the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia. 
The Cantata evoked not a little unfavorable criticism, in refer- 
ence to which the author exhibited a high and self-confident 
artistic spirit. " The artist," he wrote, '' shall put forth, 
humbly and lovingly, and without bitterness against opposi- 
tion, the very best and highest that is within him, utterly 
regardless of contemporary criticism." 

641. Lecturer on Literature. — The closing years of his 
life, though burdened with illness, were surprisingly fruitful 
in verse. In 1877 he wrote the '' Song of the Chattahoochee," 
and a year later " The Revenge of Hamish." Both are 
remarkable poems, the former for its musical qualities, and 
the latter for its strength as a ballad. In 1879 he was ap- 
pointed lecturer on English literature at Johns Hopkins 
University, and the same year he wrote his " Science of Eng- 
lish Verse." This work traces the parallelism between 
music and poetry. Though written rapidly, it was based 
on elaborate investigation, and remains as an original and 
suggestive contribution to the science of versification. 

642. Metrical Music. — This work reveals to us the 
fundamental defect of Lanier's poetry : he seems to be more 
concerned about the music of his verse than about its thought. 
Alliteration and tone-color apparently count for more than 
ideas. Though criticising Poe, Lanier really belongs to the 



?>1^ 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



same school ; and even his finest poems, like the " Hymns of 
the Marshes," partake of the nature of ecstatic rhapsody. 
Take, for example, the opening strophe of '' The Marshes of 
Glynn": — 

" Glooms of the live-oaks, beautiful-braided and woven 
With intricate shades of the vines that myriad cloven 
Clamber the forks of the multiform boughs, — 
Emerald twilights, — 
Virginal shy lights. 
Wrought of the leaves to allure to the whisper of vows 
When lovers pace timidly down through the green colonnades 
Of the dim sweet woods, of the dear dark woods, 

Of the heavenly woods and glades, 
That run to the radiant marginal sand-beach within 
The wide sea-marshes of Glynn." 

The musical effects sometimes attained by Lanier are 
deUghtful. His '' Song of the Chattahoochee," in its ono- 
matopoetic Hit, recalls Tennyson's " Brook " : — 

" Out of the hills of Habersham, 

Down the valleys of Hall, 
I hurry amain to reach the plain, 
Run the rapid and leap the fall. 
Split at the rock and together again, 
Accept my bed, or narrow or wide, 
And flee from folly on every side 
With a lover's pain to attain the plain 

Far from the hills of Habersham, 

Far from the valleys of Hall." 

643. Moral Significance of Art. — It is to the credit of 
Lanier's insight and character that he was not lured aside 
from the moral significance of art. He never made the mis- 
take of divorcing art and truth ; to his mind a thing had to 
be right before it could be beautiful. In one of his lectures 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 



373 



to the students of Johns Hopkins University he said : " He 
who has not yet perceived how artistic beauty and moral 
beauty are convergent lines which run back into a common 
ideal origin, and who therefore is not afire with moral beauty 
just as with artis- 
tic beauty — that 
he, in short, who 
has not come to 
that stage of 
quiet and eternal 
frenzy in which 
the beauty of 
holiness and the 
holiness of beauty 
mean one thing, 
burn as one fire, 
shine as one light 
within him, he 
is not yet the 
great artist." 

644. Abram J. 
Ryan. — Perhaps 
no poet in the 
South has been 
more popular 
than Abram J. 
Ryan, better 
known as Father Ryan. His poems do not exhibit a polished 
art ; they are rather the emotional outpourings of a heart that 
readily found expression in fluent melodies. The poet him- 
self modestly wished to call them only verses; and, as he 
tells us, they *' were written at random, — off and on, here. 




Abram J. Ryan 



374 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

there, anywhere, — just as the mood came, with little of 
study and less of art, and always in a hurry." But these 
hurried, unpolished songs have been dear to many a heart. 

645. Priestly Vocation. — Abram J. Ryan was born in 
Norfolk, Virginia, in 1839, whither his parents, natives of 
Ireland, had immigrated not long before. When he was 
seven or eight years old, his parents removed to St. Louis. 
He showed a rare aptitude in acquiring knowledge, and his 
superior intellectual gifts, associated with an unusual rever- 
ence for sacred things, early indicated the priesthood as his 
future vocation. He studied at the Roman Catholic seminary 
at Niagara ; and his deeply religious nature, as well as the 
dogmatic beliefs of his church, is reflected in many of his poems. 

646. ''Their Story Runneth Thus." — A touching ro- 
mance seems to have belonged to his early life — a romance 
that finds poetic expression in " Their Story Runneth Thus." 

"One night in mid of May their faces met 
As pure as all the stars that gazed on them. 
They met to part from themselves and the world, 
Their hearts just touched to separate and bleed; 
Their eyes were linked in look, while saddened tears 
Fell down, like rain, upon the cheeks of each : 
They were to meet no more. Their hands were clasped 
To tear the clasp in twain ; and all the stars 
Looked proudly down on them, while shadows knelt 
Or seemed to kneel, around them with the awe 
Evoked from any heart by sacrifice." 

647. Martial Songs. — On the outbreak of the Civil 
War, Father Ryan entered the Confederate army as a chap- 
lain, though he sometimes served in the ranks. His martial 
songs, " The Sword of Robert Lee," " The Conquered Ban- 
ner," and " March of the Deathless Dead " have been very 
popular in the South. He reverenced Lee as peerless leader. 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 375 

'Forth from its scabbard ! How we prayed 

That sword might victor be ; 
And when our triumph was delayed, 
And many a heart grew sore afraid, 
We still hoped on while gleamed the blade 

Of noble Robert Lee." 



648. 



Prophetic Office. — Father Ryan conceived of the 
poet's office as something seerUke or prophetic. With him, 
as with all great poets, the message counted for more than 
do rhythm and rhyme. He regarded genuine poets as the 
high priests of nature. In " Poets " he says : — 

''They are all dreamers; in the day and night 
Ever across their souls 
The wondrous mystery of the dark or bright 
In mystic rhythm rolls." 

649. Distinctive Poetic Quality. — It can hardly be 
said that Father Ryan ever reaches far poetic heights. 
Neither in thought nor expression does he often rise above 
cultured commonplace. Fine artistic quality is supplanted 
by a sort of easy fluency. Yet the form and tone of his 
poetry, nearly always in one pensive key, make a distinct 
impression, unlike that of any other American singer. Reli- 
gious feeling is dominant. Having once caught his distinctive 
note of weary melancholy, we can recognize it among a chorus 
of a thousand singers. It is to his honor that he has achieved 
a distinctive place in American poetry. 



4. The Middle and Far West 

650. Development of the West. — The completion of the 
Pacific railroads and the great mineral wealth and agri- 
cultural resources of the West have attracted thither a cease- 



376 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



less tide of immigration. During the period under consider- 
ation, great States, far surpassing the original thirteen in 
extent and population, have been added to our country. 
Cities have sprung up almost by magic. The rapid conquest 

of this vast re- 
gion, particu- 
larly in the min- 
ing districts, has 
resulted in new 
phases of life, 
which possess a 
deep human in- 
terest and stand 
as something 
unique in the 
field of litera- 
ture. Men of 
high gifts have 
not been lacking 
to utilize these 
materials and to 
enrich the an- 
nals of American 
letters. 

651. Francis 
Bret Harte. — 
Francis Bret 
Harte, who was born in Albany, New York, in 1839, was taken 
to California in his early youth and grew up there amid the 
hardships and excitements of pioneer life. He was successively 
schoolteacher, miner, and type-setter, — occupations that 
served to enlarge his experience and to give him an intimate 




Francis Bret Harte 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 377 

knowledge of human life and character. While working on the 
Golden Era of San Francisco, he published a series of sketches 
descriptive of frontier and mining life which met with public 
favor, and as a result he was promoted from the printer's 
case to the editor's desk. In 1864 he became secretary of the 
United States Mint in San Francisco, but diligently devoted 
his leisure hours to literature. Among the productions of 
this period are " John Burns of Gettysburg," and the '' Society 
upon the Stanislaus," which rank among his best poetical 
productions. 

652. Stories and Poems. — In 1868 The Overland Monthly 
was established with Harte as editor. For the second num- 
ber he wrote, as something distinctive in California life, 
'' The Luck of Roaring Camp." Though the story was coldly 
received in California, it excited attention in the East and 
laid the foundation of the writer's reputation. It was speed- 
ily followed by other stories and poems in the same vein, 
among which may be mentioned *' The Outcasts of Poker 
Flat," '' Miggles," and '' Tennessee's Partner." In 1870 
his '' Plain Language from Truthful James," descriptive of 
the "heathen Chinee," struck the popular fancy and was 
quoted all over the United States : — 

"Ah Sin was his name ; 

And I shall not deny 
In regard to the same 

What that name might imply ; 
But his smile it was pensive and childlike, 

As I frequent remarked to Bill Nye." 

653. Literary and Other Labors. — In 1871 he went 
East, and for several years led a Bohemian life in New York. 
He tried lecturing and failed. His contributions to the 
Atlantic and other periodicals afforded him a meagre sup- 



378 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

port. In 1878 he was appointed consul to Crefeld, Germany, 
and two years later was transferred to Glasgow. After 1885 
he lived in London, where he is said to have been a favorite in 
English society. But whatever may have been his other 
employments, his pen was not idle, and stories and novels 
followed one another at pretty regular intervals. Among 
these may be mentioned '' Gabriel Conroy " (1876), '' Drift 
from Two Shores " (1878), '' The Twins of Table Mountain " 
(1879), " Flip and Found at Blazing Star " (1882), '' On the 
Frontier" (1884), '^ Maruja " (1885), "A Millionaire of 
Rough and Ready " (1887), etc. 

654. Distinctive American Writer. — Bret Harte is best 
in his short stories. His first novel, '' Gabriel Conroy," 
while containing scenes of characteristic vigor, is not re- 
garded as a notable success. In the main he has confined 
himself to the pioneer life of the West. Though this fact 
narrows his range, it makes him one of the most distinctly 
American of our writers. His stories are original, owing 
nothing but their literary art to other countries or other 
times. This freshness of subject and novelty of character 
made him one of our most popular authors abroad. It may 
be questioned whether his stories are entirely true to life. 
His adventurers, thieves, and courtesans have, at the basis 
of their character, an unselfishness and fidelity that must at 
best be very exceptional. It is not in these classes that we 
usually look for heroes and heroines. 

655. Cincinnatus Heine Miller. — Cincinnatus Heine 
Miller, better known by the pen-name of Joaquin Miller, 
was born in Indiana in 184 1. In youth he ran away to 
California, where as a miner and adventurer he experienced 
many hardships. Returning home, not wholly unlike the 
prodigal, he entered Columbia College, where he was grad- 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 



379 



uated in 1858 as the valedictorian of his class. After studying 
law he went to the mining region of Idaho ; but finding little 
encouragement in his profession, he turned express messenger. 
Afterwards he moved to Oregon, where he became editor of 
the Democratic Register, which was suppressed for alleged trea- 
sonable utterances, and a little later he was appointed judge 
of Grant County, a posi- 
tion which he held for 
four years. 

656. " Songs of the 
Sierras." — Through all 
the varied and danger- 
ous experiences of these 
years the impulse to 
write was strong within 
him. In the midst of 
his unfavorable environ- 
ment he used every 
means to improve his 
literary culture, and to 
this end he read exten- 
sively in ancient and 
modern authors. Like 




Joaquin Miller 



Milton he cherished the conviction that he was to write 
something worthy of the attention of men, and in secret he 
practised the art which was afterwards to make him known. 
Finally he felt strong enough for a venture, and brought 
together the '' Songs of the Sierras," a poetic collection full of 
the wild scenery and still wilder romance of the far West. 
Failing to find a publisher in this country, he went to Eng- 
land, where the publication of this first volume created sl furore, 
and the poet suddenly found himself the lion of British society. 



380 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

He was called '' the American Byron," and was feted and 
flattered as the most original of American poets. 

657. "Songs of the Sunlands." — This fame, exagger- 
ated and ephemeral, naturally found an echo in this country. 
It was given a more substantial basis by the publication of 
" Songs of the Sunlands " in 1873, which represents the 
author's genius at its best, and contains passages of excep- 
tional beauty. The keynote of the volume is found in these 
prefatory stanzas : — 

"Primeval forests ! virgin sod ! 

That Saxon hath not ravished yet ! 
Lo ! peak on peak in column set, 
In stepping stairs that reach to God ! 

"Here we are free as sea or wind, 
For here are set the snowy tents 
In everlasting battlements 
Against the march of Saxon mind." 

The principal poem of this volume is the " Isles of the 
Amazons " — 

*'A curious old tale of a curious old time." 

It is the most artistic of the poet's longer pieces. " Into it 
he has put," as Vedder says, '' all his strength, and, as he seems 
temporarily to have forgotten his affectations and manner- 
isms, his lines glow with tropical passion and thrill the reader 
with the vi\ddness and originality of their imagery and their 
spontaneous vigor of expression." 

658. '' Olive Leaves." — In '' Ob've Leaves," which treats 
of New Testament themes, and " Fallen Leaves," both of 
which form divisions of the volume under consideration, the 
poet now and then touches a moral note unusual in his writ- 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 381 

ings. " Down into the Dust," for example, is a passionate 
plea for human charity and helpfulness : — 

''Is it worth while that we jostle a brother, 
Bearing his load on the rough road of hfe? 
Is it worth while that we jeer at each other 

In blackness of heart ? — that we war to the knife ? 
God pity us all in our pitiful strife ! " 

659. Numerous Writings. — After living for a time in 
Washington City, where he wrote for various periodicals, 
he returned to CaUfornia, where he resided till his death. 
A series of works in prose and verse, appearing at brief 
intervals, bears testimony to his literary acti\ity. Among 
these works may be mentioned " Songs of the Desert " 
(1875), '' The Baroness of New York " (1877), a novel, " Songs 
of Italy" (1878), ''The Danites in the Sierras" (1881), a 
novel, '' '49, or the Gold Seekers of the Sierras " (1884), 
'' Songs of the Mexican Seas " (1887), etc. Joaquin Miller 
is a writer of unmistakable originality and power, but he 
lacks the refinement, symmetry, and taste of a chastened 
culture. He hardly deserves the almost utter neglect into 
which he has fallen. 

660. Edward Eggleston. — Edward Eggleston did for the 
pioneer days of the Middle West what Bret Harte and Joa- 
quin Miller did for the broad regions looking upon the Pacific. 
He described the scenes and characters of Indiana and lUi- 
nois before those States had become centres of wealth and 
refinement. His three principal novels, '' The Hoosier 
Schoolmaster" (1871), '' Roxy " (1878), and ''The Gray- 
sons " (1888), are true and graphic pictures of life as it existed 
there two or three generations ago. Written in a reaHstic 
spirit and based on the actual experience of the author, these 
works, apart from their unusual interest as fiction, possess 



382 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



also the value of history. In the last-named book, Abraham 
Lincoln figures as a young, uncouth lawyer of impressive 

astuteness. 

661. Master- 
ing Difficulties. 
— The career of 
Edward Eggle- 
ston illustrates 
the power of an 
energetic na- 
ture to over- 
come difficul- 
ties. Delicate 
health pre- 
vented him 
from acquiring 
a collegiate ed- 
ucation ; yet, 
by dint of pri- 
vate study and 
extensive read- 
ing, he made 
himself ac- 
quainted with 
several foreign 
languages and with English and French literature. A tem- 
porary sojourn in Virginia, from which State his parents had 
moved to Indiana, made him acquainted with the " old 
Virginia .gentleman," whose character he has touched upon 
in some of his works. 

662. Editorial Labors. — He was born in Indiana in 1837. 
At the age of nineteen he became a Methodist circuit-rider 




Edward Eggleston 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 383 

in his native State, and afterwards in Minnesota. His min- 
isterial work was repeatedly interrupted by broken health, 
and he was at last obliged to turn to secular pursuits for a 
livelihood. His Kterary instincts found expression in fre- 
quent contributions to the press. In 1866 he removed to 
Evanston, Illinois, where he became associate editor of a 
popular paper for young people, The Little Corporal, which 
was afterwards merged into St. Nicholas. Shortly afterwards 
he assumed editorial control of the National Sunday-School 
Teacher of Chicago, and increased its circulation from 5000 
to 35,000 copies. In 1870 he was called to New York to 
become literary editor of The Independent, and a few months 
later, upon the retirement of Theodore Tilton, he was made 
editor-in-chief. The following year he took charge of the 
Hearth and Home, and through his able management rendered 
it wddely popular. It was in this periodical that " The 
Hoosier Schoolmaster " first appeared, and attracted much 
attention. It opened a new vein in American literature. 

663. Historical Works. — He served as pastor of a church 
in Brooklyn from 1874 to 1879, when faiHng health forced 
him to resign. His methods of church work were original 
and innovating, but in a measure successful. He built a 
beautiful home on Lake George, where he gave his latter 
years to historical writing. His '' Famous American Indians " 
extends through five volumes. He wrote an interesting school 
'' History of the United States and its People " (1888). But 
his principal work in this line was his " History of Life in the 
United States," the first volume of which, '' The Beginners of 
a Nation," appeared in 1896. His historical writing is char- 
acterized by breadth of \dew. He is more concerned about 
principles and causes than about details of fact ; yet there is 
enough of graphic incident to illustrate his principles and to 



384 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

impart interest to his work. His facts are based on a careful 
investigation of original sources; and though he is apt to 
deviate from traditional conclusions, he exhibits a rare pene- 
tration and maintains a judicial fairness in all his discussions. 

Conclusion 

664. Record of Progress. — Our survey of American 
literature exhibits a development of which we may well be 
proud. From the meagre productions of the first colonial 
period to the varied and innumerable writings of the present 
is a long step. Whether taken in its limited or its larger 
sense, literature has kept pace with the unexampled material 
progress of our country. From two small colonies on the 
Atlantic, it has extended, in broad sweep, to the Pacific. 
Before long we may expect it to make new conquests in our 
insular possessions. 

665. Notable Names. — Our study has been restricted, 
in the main, to what is known as polite or helles lettres Uter- 
ature. Had we taken literature in its more comprehensive 
sense, we should have found many names worthy of mention. 
William James and Josiah Royce, of Harvard, and George 
T. Ladd, of Yale, have won distinction in philosophy. Horace 
Mann and Henry Barnard were great educators, whose work 
has left an impress upon our schools. Francis A. Walker 
and Richard T. Ely are authors of marked ability in political 
and social science. John W. Draper and Simon Newcomb 
have gained an international reputation for their work in 
science. History, dominated at present by the scientific rather 
than by the literary spirit, has been widely cultivated by such 
men as Justin Winsor, Hubert Howe Bancroft, Henry Adams, 
and Alfred T. Mahan. In no department of human investi- 
gation is America entirely without names worthy of mention. 



SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 385 

666. Sectional Literature. — Yet our literature, as a 
whole, bears the marks of immaturity. Much of it is written 
too hastily ; much of it has* sprung from a defective culture ; 
and as a natural result, our literature lacks, in considerable 
measure, the finest artistic qualities. In one sense we can 
hardly be said to have a national literature. Our country is 
not yet thoroughly homogeneous ; and consequently we have 
New England, Southern, and Western writers rather than 
American writers. But mighty agencies — railroads, news- 
papers, colleges, and public schools — are at work to bring 
about a greater homogeneity. In the course of time the dis- 
tinctive features of the different parts of our country will be 
less marked, and then local or sectional literature will give 
place to national literature. 

667. A Hopeful Outlook. — We may look hopefully to 
the future. The eager, struggling, commercial spirit of the 
present day — a spirit natural to the youth and circumstances 
of our country — will ultimately give way to the calmer and 
more reflective mood of maturity. There will finally come a 
period of greater leisure and comfort, in which the beauty of 
art and the graces of culture will count for more than in the 
restless and struggling present. Better work will then be 
exacted of our authors ; and genius, responding to the demand 
of the age, will produce a literature in keeping with the larger 
material and intellectual greatness of our country. 

For Further Reading and Study 

// is left to the judgment of the teacher to select from the 
abundant treasures of this period such pieces as are accessible 
and deemed most important. The most notable works of the 
leading authors have been indicated in the text. 



SELECTION FROM CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 387 



ILLUSTRATIVE SELECTIONS 

WITH NOTES 
I 

SELECTION FROM CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 

CAPTURED BY THE INDIANS 

Forty miles I passed up ye river/ which for the most part is a quar- 
ter of a mile broad, and three fatham and a half deep, exceeding osey,^ 
many great low marshes and many high lands, especially about ye 
midst at a place called Moysonicke,^ a Peninsule of four miles circuit, 
betwixt two rivers joyned to the main, by a neck of forty or fifty yards, 
and forty or fifty yards from the high water marke. On both sides 
in the very necke of the maine, are high hills and dales, yet much in- 
habited, the He declining in a plaine fertile come field, the lower end a 
low marsh ; more plentie of swannes, cranes, geese, duckes, and mal- 
lards, and divers sorts of fowles none would desire : more plaine fertile 
planted ground, in such great proportions as there I had not scene, of 
a light blacke sandy mould, the cliffs commonly red, white and yellowe 
colored sand, and under red and white clay, fish great plenty, and 
people abundance, the most of their inhabitants in view of ye necke of 
Land, where a better seate for a town cannot be desired. At the end of 
forty miles this river environeth many low Hands, at each high water 
drowned for a mile, where it uniteth itself e, at a place called Apokant, 
the highest Towne inhabited. Ten miles higher I discovered with the 
barge ; in the midway, a great tree hindered my passage, which I cut 
in two : heere the river became narrower, eight, nine, or ten foote at a 
high water, and six or seven at a lowe : the streame exceeding swift 
and the bottom hard channell, the ground most part a low plaine, sandy 
soyle ; this occasioned me to suppose it might issue from some lake or 
some broad ford, so it could not be far to the head, but rather then I would 
endanger the barge, yet to have been able to resolve this doubt, and to 



388 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

discharge the imputation of mahcious tungs, that halfe suspected I 
durst not for so long delaying, some of the company as desirous as my- 
selfe, we resolved to hire a Canowe and return with the barge to Apok- 
ant, there to leave the barge secure, and put ourselves uppon the adven- 
ture : the country onely a vast and wilde wilderness and but onely that 
Towne. Within three or foure mile we hired a Canowe and two Indians 
to row us ye next day a fowling : having made such provision for the 
barge as was needful, I left her there to ride, with expresse charge not 
any to goe ashore til my returne. Though some wise men may con- 
demn this too bould attempt of too much indiscretion, yet if they well 
consider the friendship of the Indians, in conducting me, the desolate- 
ness of the country, the probabilitie of some lacke, and the malicious 
judges of my actions at home, as also to have some matters of worth to 
incourage our adventurers in England, might weU have caused any 
honest minde to have done the like, as well for his owne discharge as for 
the publike good. Having two Indians for my guide and two of our own 
company, I set forward, leaving seven in the barge ; having discovered 
twenty miles further in this desart, the river still kept his depth and 
bredth, but much more combred with trees : here we went ashore 
(being some twelve miles higher than ye barge had bene) to refresh 
our selves, during the boyhng of our victuals. One of the Indians 
I took with me to see the nature of the soile, and to crosse the boughts "* 
of the river, the other Indian I left with IMr. Robinson and Thomas 
Emry, with their matches light ^ and order to discharge a peece, for 
my retreat at the first sight of any Indian, but within a quarter of 
an houre I heard a loud cry and a hollowing of Indians, but no warn- 
ing peece. Supposing them surprised, and that the Indians had be- 
traid us, presently I seazed him and bound his arme fast to my hand 
in a garter,^ with my pistoll ready bent ^ to be revenged on him : he 
advised me to fly and seemed ignorant of what was done, but as we 
went discoursing, I was struck with an arrow on the right thigh but 
without harme. Upon this occasion I espied two Indians drawing 
their bowes, which I prevented in discharging a French pistoll : by 
that I had charged againe, three or four more did the like, for the first 
fell downe and fled : at my discharge they did the like, my hinde * 
I made my barricado, who offered not to strive. Twenty or thirty 
arrowes were shot at me but short, three or four times I had discharged 
my pistoll ere the King of Pamaunck called Opeckankenough, with 



SELECTION FROM CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 389 

two hundred men, environed me, eache drawing their bowe, which 
done they laid them upon the ground, yet without shot, my hinde 
treated betwixt them and me of conditions of peace, he discovered 
me to be the Captaine, my request was to retire to ye boate, they de- 
maunded my armes, the rest they saide were slaine, only me they would 
reserve; the Indian importuned me not to shoot. In retiring, being 
in the midst of a low quagmire, and minding them more then my steps, 
I stept fast into the quagmire, and also the Indian in drawing me forth : 
thus surprised, I resolved to trie their mercies, my armes I caste from 
me, til which none durst approach me. 

Being ceazed on me, they drew me out and led me to the King; I 
presented him with a compasse diall, describing by my best meanes 
the use thereof, whereat he so amazedly admired, as he suffered me to 
proceed in a discourse of the roundness of the earth, the course of the 
sunne, moone, starres, and plannets.^ With kinde speeches and bread 
he requited me, conducting me where the Canow lay and John Robbin- 
son slaine, with twenty or thirty arrowes in him. Emry I saw not, 
I perceived by the aboundance of fires all over the woods, at each place 
I expected when they would execute me, yet they used me with what 
kindnes they could : approaching their Towne, which was within six 
miles where I was taken, onely made as arbors and covered with mats, 
which they remove as occasion requires: all the women and children, 
being advertised of this accident, came foorth to meet them, the King 
well guarded with twenty bowmen, five flanck and rear, and each flanck 
before him a sword and a peece, after him the like, then a bowman, 
then I, on each hande a bowman, the reste in file in the reare. . . . 
On eache flanck a sargeant, the one running alwaies towards the front, 
the other towards the reare, each a true pace and in exceeding good 
order. This being a good time continued, they caste themselves in a 
ring with a daunce, and so eache man departed to his lodging, the Cap- 
tain conducting me to his lodging. A quarter of Venison and some 
ten pound of bread I had for supper ; what I left was reserved for me, 
and sent with me to my lodging : each morning three women presented 
me three greate platters of fine bread, more venison than ten men could 
devour I had ; my gowne, points ^^ and garters, my compas and a tablet 
they gave me againe. Though eight ordinarily guarded me, I wanted 
not what they could devise to content me : and still our longer acquaint- 
ance increased our better affection. Much they threatened to assalt 



390 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

our forte, as they were solicited by the King of Paspahegh, who shewed 
at our forte great signes of sorrow for this mischance. . . . 

I desired he '^ would send a messenger to Paspahegh/^ with a letter 
I would write, by which they shold understand how kindly they used 
me, and that I was wel, least they should revenge my death : this he 
granted, and sent three men in such weather, as in reason were un- 
possible, by any naked to be indured. Their cruell mindes towards 
the fort I had deverted in describing the ordnances and the mines in 
the fields, as also the revenge Captain Newport would take of them, 
at his return ; their intent, I incerted the fort, the people of Ocanahonum 
and the back sea : ^^ this report they after found divers Indians that 
confirmed. The next day after my letter, came a salvage to my lodg- 
ing, with his sword to have slaine me, but being by my guard inter- 
cepted, with a bowe and arrow he offred to have effected his purpose : 
the cause I knew not til the King understanding thereof came and told 
me of a man dying, wounded with my pistoll : he told me also of an- 
other I had slayne, yet the most concealed they had any hurte : this 
was the father of him I had slayne, whose fury to prevent, the King 
presently conducted me to another Kingdome, upon the top of the 
next northerly river, called Youghtanan. . . . 

Arriving at Weramocomoco,^* their Emperour proudly lying uppon 
a Bedstead a foote high upon tenne or twelve Mattes, richly hung with 
many chaynes of great Pearls about his necke, and covered with a 
great covering of Rahaughcums : ^^ at his heade sat a woman, at his 
feete another, on each side sitting uppon a Matte uppon the ground 
were raunged his chiefe men on each side the fire, tenne in a rank, and 
behinde them as many young women, each a great chaine of white 
beades over their shoulders : their heades painted in redde, and with 
such a grave majesticall countenance, as drave me into admiration to 
see such state in a naked salvage, hee kindly welcomed me with good 
wordes, and great platters of sundrie victuals, assuring me his friend- 
ship, and my libertie within foure dayes. 



NOTES TO CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 391 



NOTES TO CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 

A FEW suggestions are here made to guide the student in the study of the 
following selections in prose. Suggestions for the study of poetry will be found 
under " Notes to Bryant." 

1. Ascertain the circumstances under which the work in hand was written, 
and the purpose it was intended to subserv^e. How was the material obtained ? 
Is it fact or fiction ? An acquaintance with the author's life will be helpful in 
answering these and other questions. 

2. All discourse may be divided into four generic classes, namely: descrip- 
tion, narration, exposition, and argumentation. Though frequently united in the 
same paragraph, they may generally be distinguished. In the following selec- 
tions, point out what is descriptive, narrative, expository, and argumentative. 

3. Sentences vary in diction, length, and form. Every author has his pre- 
vailing or characteristic type of sentence. Determine the percentage of Anglo- 
Saxon and Latin words, and also the average length of the sentences. Ascertain 
also the proportion of loose, balanced, and periodic sentences. The results 
will afford a basis of interesting comparison between the different authors. 

4. The personality of the author is reflected in his work. Determine his 
mood or spirit in writing. Is he grave, pathetic, humorous ? Is his style 
formal and dignified, or easy and colloquial ? Does imagination, feeling, or 
reason predominate in his work ? What idea of his character would you form 
from his writing ? 

5. The foregoing points of investigation are not an end in themselves, but 
merely preliminary to an intelligent perusal of an author. It is only when 
the facts indicated are clearly ascertained that we can enter into full sympathy 
with him, or form a correct judgment of his work. 

This extract is taken from " A True Relation of such Occurrences and x*\cci- 
dents of Noate as hath Hapned in Virginia, since the First Planting of that 
Collony, which is now resident in the South Part thereof, till the last Returne 
from thence." It is the earliest history of the settlement at Jamestown, and 
the beginning of American literature. It covers the brief period between April 
26, 1607, and June 2, 1608. It was printed in London in small quarto form. 
There are eight copies of the original edition in America. An inaccurate reprint 
appeared in the Southern Literary Messenger, February, 1845. An edition was 
edited by Mr. Deane in Boston in 1866. 

The substance of the " True Relation " is reproduced in the " Generall 
Historie of Virginia, New England, and the Summer Isles " (the third book), 
which was written in 1624. The style of the " Generall Historie " is more ele- 
vated and flowing ; and the lapse of sixteen years has served to give to the nar- 



392 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

rative something of the enchantment that distance lends to the view. While 
it is not necessary, perhaps, to believe in the fabrication of new matter, it is 
certainly true that the " Generall Historie " contains interesting statements not 
found in the "True Relation." The romantic story of Pocahontas, for 
example, is found only in the former ; and its absence from the "True Relation " 
has been regarded by some recent critics as pretty conclusive proof that the in- 
cident was a happy afterthought. 

Except the punctuation and the use of capital letters, which it was thought 
better not to follow closely, the extract given for study is a reproduction of the 
original, and will therefore serve as a specimen of English prose at the beginning 
of the seventeenth century. As will be noticed, there is a considerable lack 
of uniformity in the spelling. This is attributable less to Smith's carelessness 
or ignorance than to the unfixed state of the English language. When he wrote 
the "True Relation," no dictionary of the language had yet appeared, the first 
being pubhshed in 1623. 

1. Ye river. — The letter y in ye is used for the Anglo-Saxon character 
representing the sound th, and in the Middle Ages, as well as at the beginning 
of the seventeenth century, had the same sound. Smith uses both forms of 
the definite article, ye and the. The river in question is the Chickahominy, 
which, in the "True Relation," appears as Checka Hamania, and in the 
"Generall Historie" as the Chickahamania. 

2. Osey = oozy. A. S.wos; the word has lost its initial w. 

3. All the places named in the narrative are given in Smith's well-known 
map of Virginia. Considering the difficulties attending his explorations, the 
accuracy of his map is remarkable. 

4. Boughts = bends, turnings. Also spelled bout. In Milton we find : — 

"In notes, with many a winding bout 
Of linked sweetness long drawn out." — U Allegro, 139. 

But in Spenser, speaking of the Monster Error : — 
"Her huge long taile her den all overspred, 
Yet was in knots and many bonghtes upwound." — Faery Queene, I. xv. 

5. Light = hghted. "About the beginning of the reign of Henry VII 
the hand-gun was improved by the addition of a cock, which was brought down 
by a trigger to a pan at the side of the barrel ; this cock held a match which ig- 
nited a priming in the pan, the priming communicating with the charge by a 
small hole." This was the matchlock, and continued in use till the middle of 
the seventeenth century, when it was replaced by the flintlock. 

6. In a garter = "with his garters," as stated in the "Generall Historie." 

7. Bent = cocked. 

8. Hinde = servant. The d is excrescent; from A. S. hina, a domestic. 

g. In the "Generall Historie" we have the following version, which is 



NOTES TO CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 393 

given to show the difference of style between the two works: "Then finding 
the Captaine, as is said, that used the salvage that was his guide as his sheld, 
(three of them being slaine and divers other so gauld,) all the rest would not 
come neere him. Thinking thus to have returned to his boat, regarding them, 
as he marched, more then his way, slipped up to the middle in an oasie creeke, 
and his salvage with him, yet durst they not come to him till being neere dead 
with cold, he threw away his armes. Then according to their composition they 
drew him forth and led him to the fire, where his men were slaine. Dihgently 
they chafed his benummed Umbs. He demanding for their Captaine, they 
shewed him Opechankanough, King of Pamaunkee, to whom he gave a round 
ivory double compass dyall. ^Much they marvailed at the playing of the fly 
and needle, which they could see so plainely, and yet not touch it, because of 
the glasse that covered them. But when he demonstrated by that globe-Uke 
Jewell the roundnesse of the earth, and skies, the spheare of the sunne, moone, 
and starres, and how the sunne did chase the night round about the world 
continually ; the greatnesse of the land and see, the diversitie of nations, varietie 
of complexions, and how we were to them Antipodes, and many other such like 
matters, they all stood as amazed with admiration. Notwithstanding, within 
an houre after they tyed him to a tree, and as many as could stand about him 
prepared to shoot him, but the King holding up the compass in his hand, they 
all laid downe their bowes and arrows, and in a triumphant manner led him to 
Orapaks, where he was after their manner kindly feasted and well used." 

At the time of this occurrence. Smith had been in Virginia about eight 
months. Considering, then, his very slender attainments in the Indian lan- 
guage, we may well doubt whether he succeeded, in an hour, in making his 
astronomy, geography, and ethnography very intelligible to his savage auditors. 

10. Points = "A tagged lace, used to tie together certain parts of the 
dress." — Webster. 

11. He = King Opechancanough. 

12. "Yet according to his request they went to James Towne." — Generall 
Historie. 

13. This refers to information given by Opechancanough. "The Kinge 
tooke greate delight in understanding the manner of our ships and sayling the 
seas, and of our God ; what he knew of the dominions he spared not to acquaint 
me with, as of certaine men cloathed at a place called Ocanahonan, cloathed 
like me, the course of our river, and that within four or five dales journey of the 
falles was a great turning of salt water." 

14. Situated on York river, about twelve miles from Jamestown. 

15. In the "Generall Historie" spelled Rarowcun ^ raccoon. The ety- 
mology of raccoon in Webster and Skeat fails to give the Indian origin of the 
word; it is found, however, in "The Century Dictionary" and "The Standard 
Dictionary." 



394 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 



II 

SELECTION FRO:\I COTTON MATHER 

MAGNALIA CHRISTI : CHAPTER II 

Primordia ; ^ or, The Voyage to New England, which produced 

THE FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NeW PLYMOUTH; WITH AN ACCOUNT 

OF MANY Remarkable and IMemorable Providences Relat- 
ing TO THAT \^OYAGE 

§ I. A NUMBER of devout and serious Christians in the EngHsh 
nation, finding the Reformation of the Church 2 in that nation, accord- 
ing to the Word of God,^ and the design of many among the first Re- 
formers, to labour under a sort of hopeless retardation;^ they did. Anno 
1602, in the north of England,^ enter into a Covenant, wherein ex- 
pressing themselves desirous, not only to attend the worship of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, with a freedom from humane ^ inventions and addi- 
tions,"^ but also to enjoy all the EvangeUcal Institutions of that wor- 
ship, they did like those Macedonians, that are therefore by the Apostle 
Paul commended, "give themselves up, first unto God, and then to 
one another." » These pious people finding that their brethren and 
neighbors in the Church of England, as then established by law, took 
offense at these their endeavors after a scriptural reformation; and 
being loth to live in the continual vexations which they felt arising 
from their non-conformity ^ to things which their consciences accounted 
superstitious and unwarrantable, they peaceably and willingly em- 
braced a banishment into the Netherlands; where they settled at the 
city of Leyden,i° about seven or eight years after their first combina- 
tion. And now in that city this people " sojourned, an holy Church 
of the blessed Jesus, for several years under the pastoral care of Mr. 
John Robinson,i2 ^^^o had for his help in the government of the Church, 
a most wise, grave, good man, :Mr. William Brewster,^^ ^^g ruling elder. 
Indeed, Mr. John Robinson had been in his younger time (as very good 
fruit hath sometimes been, before age hath ripened it) sowred with 



SELECTION FROM COTTON MATHER 395 

the principles of the most rigid separation, in the maintaining whereof 
he composed and published some little Treatises, and in the manage- 
ment of the controversie made no scruple to call the incomparable Dr. 
Ames ^^ himself, Dr. Amiss, for opposing such a degree of separation. 
But this worthy man suffered himself at length to be so far convinced 
by his learned antagonist that with a most ingenious retractation, he after- 
wards writ a little book to prove the lawjuhiess of one thing, which his 
mistaken zeal had formerly impugned several years, even till 1625, and 
about the fiftieth year of his own age, continued he a blessing unto the 
whole Church of God, and at last, when he died, he left behind him in 
his immortal writings, a name very much embalmed among the people 
that are best able to judge of merit; and even among such, as about the 
matters of Church-discipline, were not of his persuasion. Of such an 
eminent character was he, while he lived, that when Arminianism ^^ 
so much prevailed, as it then did in the low countries, those famous 
divines, Polyander and Festus Hommius, employed this our learned 
Robinson to dispute publickly in the University of Leyden against 
Episcopius,^^ and the other champions of that grand choak-weed of true 
Christianity: and when he died, not only the University, and ^linisters 
of the city, accompanied him to his grave, with all their accustomed 
solemnities, but some of the chief among them with sorrowful resent- 
ments and expressions affirmed, ''That all the Churches of our Lord 
Jesus Christ had sustained a great loss by the death of this worthy man." 
§ 2. The English Church had not been very long at Leyden, before 
they found themselves encountered with many inconveniences. They 
felt that they were neither for health, nor purse, nor language well ac- 
commodated ; but the concern which they most of ail had, was for their 
posterity. They saw, that whatever banks the Dutch had, against the 
inroads of the sea, they had not sufficient ones against a. flood of mani- 
fold profaneness. They could not with ten years^ endeavor bring their 
neighbors particularly to any suitable observation of the Lord's Day ; ^" 
without which they knew that all practical Religion must wither miser- 
ably. They beheld some of their children, by the temptations of the 
place, which were especially given in the licentious ways of many young 
people, drawn into dangerous extravagancies, ^loreover, they were 
very loth to lose their interest in the English nation ; but were desirous 
rather to enlarge their King's dominions. They found themselves also 
under a very strong disposition of zeal, to attempt the establishment of 



396 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Congregational Churches ^^ in the remote parts of the world ; where 
they hoped they should be reached by the royal influence of their Prince, 
in whose allegiance they chose to live and die ; at the same time like- 
wise hoping that the Ecclesiasticks, who had thus driven them out 
of the kingdom into a New World, for nothing in the world but their 
non-conformity to certain rites, by the imposers confessed indiferent,^'^ 
would be ashamed ever to persecute them with any further molestations, 
at the distance of a thousand leagues. These reasons were deeply con- 
sidered by the Church ; and after many deliberations, accompanied with 
the most solemn humiliations and supplications before the God of Heaven, 
they took up a resolution, under the conduct of Heaven, to remove into 
America ; the opened regions whereof had now filled all Europe with 
reports. It was resolved, that part of the Church should go before their 
brethren, to prepare a place for the rest ; and whereas the minor part 
of younger and stronger men were to go first, the Pastor was to stay with 
the major, till they should see cause to follow. Nor was there any occa- 
sion for this resolve, in any weariness which the States of Holland had 
of their company, as was basely whispered by their adversaries ; therein 
like those who of old assigned the same cause for the departure of the 
Israelites out Egypt : for the magistrates of Leyden in their Court, 
reproving the Walloons ,2" gave this testimony for our English: "These 
have lived now ten years among us, and yet we never had any accusation 
against any one of them ; whereas your quarrels are continual." 

§ 3. These good people were now satisfyed, they had as plain a 
command of Heaven to attempt a removal, as ever their father Abra- 
ham had for his leaving the Caldean territories ; ^i and it was nothing 
but such a satisfaction that could have carried them through such, 
otherwise insuperable difficulties, as they met withal. But in this 
removal the terminus ad quern ^^ was not yet resolved upon. The 
country of Guiana flattered them with the promises of a perpetual 
Spring, and a thousand other comfortable entertainments. But the 
probable disagreement of so torrid a climate unto English bodies, and 
the more dangerous vicinity of the Spaniards to that climate, were 
considerations which made them fear that country would be too hot 
for them. They rather propounded some country bordering upon 
Virginia; and unto this purpose, they sent over agents into England, 
who so far treated not only with the Virginia company, but with sev- 
eral great persons about the Court; unto whom they made evident 



SELECTION FROM COTTON MATHER 397 

their agreement with the French Reformed Churches in all things what- 
soever, except in a few small accidental points; that at last, after many 
tedious delays, and after the loss of many friends and hopes in those 
, delays, they obtained a Patent for a quiet settlement in those terri- 
tories ; and the Archbishop of Canterbury himself gave them some 
expectations that they should never be disturbed in that exercise of 
Religion, at which they aimed in their settlement ; yea, when Sir 
Robert Nanton, then principal Secretary of State unto King James, 
moved his Majesty to give away "that such a people might enjoy their 
liberty of conscience under his gracious protection in America, where 
they would endeavor the advancement of his Majesty's dominions, and 
the enlargement of the interests of the Gospel;" the King said, "It 
was a good and honest motion." All this notwithstanding, they never 
made use of that Patent : but being informed of New England, thither 
they diverted their design, thereto induced by sundry reasons ; but 
particularly by this, that the coast being extremely well circumstanced 
ioT fishing, they might therein have some immediate assistance against 
the hardships of their first encounters. Their agents then again sent 
over to England concluded articles between them and such adven- 
turers as would be concerned with them in their present undertakings 
— articles that were indeed suflticiently hard ^ for those poor men that 
were now to transplant themselves into an horrid wilderness. The 
diversion of their enterprise from the first state and way of it, caused an 
unhappy division among those that should have encouraged it ; and 
many of them hereupon fell off. But the Removers having already 
sold their estates, to put the money into a common stock,-^ for the wel- 
fare of the whole; and their stock as well as their time spending so fast 
as to threaten them with an army of straits, if they delayed any longer : 
they nimbly dispatched the best agreements they could, and came away 
furnished with a Resolution for a large Tract of Land in the southwest 
part of New England. 

§ 4. All things being now in some readiness, and a couple of ships, 
one called The Speedwell, the other The May-Flower, being hired for 
their transportation, they solemnly set apart a day for fasting and 
prayer; wherein their Pastor preached unto them upon Ezra viii. 21 : 
"I proclaimed a fast there, at the river Ahava, that we might afflict 
ourselves before our God, to seek of him a right way for us, and for 
our little ones, and for all our substance." 



398 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Alter the fervent supplications of this day, accompanied by their 
affectionate friends, they took their leave of the pleasant city, where 
they had been pilgrims and strangers now for eleven years. Delft- 
Haven ^^ was the town where they went on board one of their ships, 
and there they had such a mournful parting from their brethren, as 
even drowned the Dutch spectators themselves, then standing on the 
shore, in tears. Their excellent Pastor, on his knees, by the sea-side, 
poured out their mutual petitions unto God; and having wept in one 
another's arms, as long as the wind and the tide would permit them 
they bad adieu. So sailing to Southampton in England, they there 
found the other of their ships come from London, with the rest of their 
friends that were to be the companions of the voyage. Let my reader 
place the chronology of this business on July 2, 1620. And know, 
that the faithful Pastor of this people immediately sent after them 
a pastoral letter; a letter filled with holy counsels unto them, to settle 
their peace with God in their own consciences, by an exact repentance 
of all sin whatsoever, that so they might more easily bear all the diffi- 
culties that were now before them ; and then to maintain a good peace 
with one another, and beware of giving or taking offences; and avoid 
all discoveries of a touchy humour; but use much brotherly forbearance 
(where by the way he had this remarkable observation: "In my own 
experience few or none have been found that sooner give offence, than 
those that easily take it ; neither have they ever proved sound and 
profitable members of societies who have nourished this touchy 
humour") ; as also to take heed of a private spirit, and all retiredness 
of mind in each man, for his own proper advantage; and likewise to be 
careful, that the house of God, which they were, might not be shaken 
with unnecessary novelties or oppositions; which Letter afterwards 
produced most happy fruits among them. 

§ 5. On August 5, 1620, they set sail from Southampton ; but if it 
shall, as I believe it will, afflict my reader to be told what heart-break- 
ing disasters befell them, in the very beginning of their undertaking, 
let him glorifie God, who carried them so well through their greater 
affliction. 

They were by bad weather twice beaten back, before they came to 
the Land's end. But it was judged, that the badness of the weather 
did not retard them so much as the deceit of a master, who, grown 
sick of the voyage, made such pretences about the leakiness of his 



SELECTION FROM COTTON MATHER 399 

vessel, that they were forced at last wholly to dismiss that lesser ship 
from the service. Being now all -*^ stowed into one ship, on the sixth 
of September they put to sea ; but they met with such terrible storms, 
that the principal persons on board had serious deliberations upon 
returning home again ; however, after long beating upon the Atlantick 
ocean, they fell in with the land at Cape Cod, about the ninth of No- 
vember following, where going on shore they fell upon their knees 
with many and hearty praises unto God, who had been their assur- 
ance, when they were afar of upon the sea, and was to be further so, 
now that they were come to the ends of the earth. 

But why at this Cape ? Here was not the port which they intended : 
this was not the land for which they had provided. There was indeed 
a most wonderful providence of God, over a pious and a praying people, 
in this disappointment ! The most crooked way that ever was gone, 
even that of Israel's peregrination through the wilderness, may be called 
a right way, such was the way of this little Israel, now going into a 
wilderness. 



400 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



NOTES TO COTTON MATHER 

The extract for special study is from the second chapter of the first book 
of the "Magnaha Christi." Both the original edition of 1702 (Thomas Park- 
hurst, London) and the reprint of 1853 (Silas Andrus & Son, Hartford) have 
been used. The editor of the latter edition says: "The author's language is 
peculiarly his own. In the rapidity of his manner, he could pay but little atten- 
tion to style," The justice of this observation will be apparent from a con- 
sideration of the first few sentences. The orthography and Italics of the original 
have been retained. 

1. Primordia = the earliest beginnings, or primitive history. 

2. The Reformation in England was begun by Henry VIII, and firmly 
estabhshed by Elizabeth. The Act of Supremacy, declaring the king to be 
the "only supreme head on earth of the Church of England," was passed in 
1535. This may be regarded as the beginning of the Reformation. 

3. The rallying point of the Reformers of the sixteenth century was "the 
Word of God." In opposition to the authority of tradition and of the Pope, 
they laid down the principle that "the Scriptures are the only rule of faith 
and practice in religion." The Puritans maintained that the Anglican Church, 
instead of returning to the simplicity of the primitive church, retained too 
many ceremonies of the Roman Catholic Church. The Puritans were so called 
because they urged, as they claimed, a purer worship. 

4. The Act of Uniformity, which required that all public worship be con- 
ducted according to the Book of Common Prayer, was passed in 1559. It 
was enforced by Elizabeth with great rigor, the penalty for a third violation 
being imprisonment for life. Under these circumstances the Reformation, 
from the Puritan standpoint, indeed suffered a "hopeless retardation." 

5. The covenant in question was formed at the village of Scrooby in Notting- 
hamshire. 

6. This is the old spelling of human, which comes to us through the French. 
Humane, which has the accent on the last syllable, comes directly from the 
Latin humaniis. 

7. By human "inventions and additions" are meant the clerical vestments 
and elaborate liturgy of the Anglican Church. 

8. A free reference to 2 Cor. viii. 5 : "And this they did, not as we hoped, 
but first gave their own selves to the Lord, and unto us by the will of God." 

9. The Puritans refused, as a matter of conscience, to wear clerical vest- 
ments and to use the Book of Common Prayer in public worship. This was a 
violation of the Act of Uniformity, and hence they were called Nonconformists- 



NOTES TO COTTON MATHER 401 

It is estimated that in 1604 there were more than fifteen hundred Nonconformist 
clergymen in England and Wales. 

10. Leyden was at this time the chief manufacturing city of the Nether- 
lands, with a population of fully 70,000. 

11. It is estimated that there were nearly three hundred adult persons 
belonging to the congregation. 

12. John Robinson (1575-1625) was educated at Cambridge, held a benefice 
in Norfolk, was suspended for nonconformity, and then formed a congregation 
of Independents. A man of strong faith, excellent scholarship, and great 
ability, he deser\'ed the praise bestowed upon him by Mather. 

13. William Brewster (i 560-1644) was the most considerable lay member 
of the congregation immigrating to Holland. He supported himself there by 
teaching English. He is generally known in history as Elder Brewster, from 
the office he held in the church. 

14. William Ames, D.D. (1576-1633), was an independent theologian of 
England, and fellow of Christ College, Cambridge. He left P^ngland in the 
reign of James I to escape persecution, and became minister of the English 
church at The Hague. He was at Rotterdam, expecting to sail to America, 
when his death occurred. 

15. By Arminianism is meant the peculiar doctrines of Arminius, a learned 
theologian of Holland. He was born in 1560 and died in 1609. His teachings 
may be summarized as follows: "i, God elects men to salvation on the basis 
of foreseen faith ; 2, Christ died for all men, but only believers partake of the 
universal redemption; 3, Man, in order truly to believe, must be regenerated 
by the Holy Spirit; 4, The grace, by which true faith is effected, is not ir- 
resistible; 5, Men may fall away from a state of grace." The doctrines of 
Arminius, which are now widespread in various parts of the Christian church, 
were condemned by the Synod of Dort. 

16. Simon Episcopius (his Dutch name was Bisschop) was born at Amster- 
dam in 1583 and died in 1643. He became the leader of the Arminian party 
after the death of Arminius. After the Synod of Dort in 16 18, he was ban- 
ished from Holland, but returned in 1626 to Amsterdam, where he became 
a professor of theology in the Arminian College there. 

17. The Puritans transferred to the Christian Lord's day the rigorous laws of 
the old Jewish Sabbath. This transference has never been extensively sanc- 
tioned on the Continent, where indeed, as many believe, the tendency has 
been to the opposite extreme. 

18. Congregationalism is that form of church government which rests all 
ecclesiastical power in the assembled brotherhood of each local church. Hence, 
it is opposed to the episcopal system of church government. 

19. "The principle upon which the bishops justified their severities against 
the Puritans was the subjects' obligation to obey the laws of their country in all 



402 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

things indifferent, which are neither commanded nor forbidden by the laws of 
God." — Neal's Puritans, Vol. I, p. 79. To the Puritans, however, they were 
not things of indifference, but of conscience. 

20. The Walloons are Romanized Gauls, lineal representatives of the ancient 
Belgae. They exhibit the Celtic temperament. Their number at present in 
Belgium is nearly three millions. 

21. See Gen. xii. i. 

22. Terminus ad quem = destination. 

23. The substance of these articles is given in Palfrey's "History of New 
England," Vol. I, p. 154. 

24. This act showed the deep earnestness of the Puritans. It was only 
a temporary communism growing out of their necessities. Bradford, a leader 
among the Plymouth Colonists, wrote : "The experience that was had in this com- 
mon course and condition, tried sundry years, and that amongst godly and sober 
men, may well evince the vanity of that conceit of Plato's and other ancients, 
applauded by some of later times, that the taking away of property, and bringing 
in community into a commonwealth, would make them happy and flourishing ; 
as if they were wiser than God." 

25. Delftshaven is fourteen miles from Leyden and two miles from Rotter- 
dam, on the river Maas. Its present population is about 10,000. 

26. When it was decided that the Speedwell was unseaworthy, a part of 
the company returned to England. The original number was about one 
hundred and twenty, of whom one hundred and two continued their journey 
in the Mayflower. 



SELECTION FROM FRANKLIN A^3 

III 

SELECTION FROM FRANKLIN 

PRELIMINARY ADDRESS TO THE PENNSYLVANIA ALMA- 
NAC, ENTITLED POOR RICHARD'S ALMANAC, FOR 
the' YEAR 1758 

I HAVE heard that nothing gives an author so great pleasure as to 
find his works respectfully quoted by other learned authors. This 
pleasure I have seldom enjoyed ; for though I have been, if I may say 
it without vanity, an eminent author (of almanacs) annually, now a full 
quarter of a century, my brother authors in the same way (for what 
reason I know not) have ever been very sparing in their applauses; 
and no author has taken the least notice of me: so that, did not my 
writings produce me some solid pudding, the great deficiency of praise 
would have quite discouraged me. 

I concluded, at length, that the people were the best judges of my 
merit, for they buy my works ; and besides, in my rambles, where I am 
not personally known, I have frequently heard one and another of my 
adages repeated, with "As Poor Richard says," at the end on't. This 
gave me some satisfaction, as it showed not only that my instructions 
were regarded, but discovered likewise some respect for my authority ; 
and I own, that to encourage the practice of remembering and repeat- 
ing those wise sentences, I have sometimes quoted myself with great 

gravity.^ 

Judge, then, how much I have been gratified by an incident which 
I am going to relate to you. I stopped my horse lately, where a great 
number of people were collected at an auction ^ of merchants' goods. 
The hour of sale not being come, they were conversing on the badness 
of the times ; and one of the company called to a plain, clean old man, 
with white locks : '' Pray, father Abraham, what think ye of the times? ' 
Won't these heavy taxes quite ruin the country? How shall we ever 
be able to pay them? What would you advise us to do?" Father 
Abraham stood up and replied, "If you'd have my advice, I'U give 
it to you in short ; 4or a word to the wise is enough ; and many words 



404 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

won't j&ll a bushel,' as poor Richard says." They joined in desiring 
him to speak his mind; and gathering round him, he proceeded as 
follows : — 

"Friends (says he) and neighbors, the taxes are indeed very heavy; 
and if those laid on by the government were the only ones we had to 
pay, we might more easily discharge them ; but we have many others, 
and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much 
by our idleness, three times as much by our pride, and four times as 
much by our folly ; ^ and from these taxes the commissioners cannot 
ease or deliver us, by allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken 
to good advice, and something may be done for us ; * God helps them 
that help themselves,' as poor Richard says in his almanac. 

I.^ "It would be thought a hard government that should tax its 
people one-tenth part of their time, to be employed in its service ; but 
idleness taxes many of us much more, if we reckon all that is spent in 
absolute sloth, or doing of nothing, with that which is spent in idle 
employments, or amusements that amount to nothing. Sloth, by 
bringing on diseases, absolutely shortens life. 'Sloth, like rust, con- 
sumes faster than labor wears, while the key often used is always bright,' 
as poor Richard says. * But doest thou love life ? then do not squan- 
der time, for that's the stuff life is made of,' as poor Richard says. How 
much more than is necessary do we spend in sleep, forgetting, that 
'the sleeping fox catches no poultry, and that there will be sleeping 
enough in the grave,' as poor Richard says. 'If time be of all things 
the most precious, wasting time must be (as poor Richard says) the 
greatest prodigality ; ' since, as he elsewhere tells us, ' Lost time is never 
found again : and what we call time enough, always proves little enough.' 
Let us then up and be doing, and doing to the purpose ; so by diligence 
shall we do more with less perplexity. 'Sloth makes all things diffi- 
cult, but industry all easy,' as poor Richard says; and 'He that riseth 
late must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his business at night ; 
while laziness travels so slowly, that poverty soon overtakes him,' as 
we read in poor Richard; who adds, 'Drive thy business, let not that 
drive thee ;' and 'Early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, 
wealthy, and wise.' 

"So what signifies wishing and hoping for better times? We 
make these times better if we bestir ourselves. 'Industry need not 
wish,' as poor Richard says; and, 'He that lives upon hope will die 



SELECTION FROM FRANKLIN 405 

fasting.' 'There are no gains without pains; then help, hands, for I 
have no lands; or if I have, they are smartly taxed;' and (as poor 
Richard likewise observes), 'He that hath a trade hath an estate, and 
he that hath a calling hath an office of profit and honor;' but then 
the trade must be worked at, and the calling well followed, or neither 
the estate nor the office will enable us to pay our taxes. If we are 
industrious, we shall never starve; for, as poor Richard says, 'At the 
workingman's house hunger looks in, but dare not enter.' Nor will 
the bailiff or the constable enter ; for ' Industry pays debts, but de- 
spair increaseth them,' says poor Richard. What though you have 
found no treasure, nor has any rich relation left you a legacy? 'Dili- 
gence is the mother of good luck,' as poor Richard says; and, 'God 
gives all things to industry; then plough deep while sluggards sleep, 
and you will have corn to sell and to keep,' says poor Dick. Work 
while it is called to-day; for you know not how much you may be 
hindered to-morrow; which makes poor Richard say, 'One to-day is 
worth two to-morrows;' and farther, 'Have you somewhat to do to- 
morrow, do it to-day.' 'If you were a servant, would you not be 
ashamed that a good master should catch you idle? Are you then 
your own master, be ashamed to catch yourself idle,' as poor Dick 
says. When there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, 
and your gracious king, be up by peep of day; 'Let not the sun look 
down and say. Inglorious here he lies ! ' ' Handle your tools without 
mittens;' remember, that 'the cat in gloves catches no mice,' as poor 
Richard says. It is true, there is much to be done, and perhaps you 
are weak-handed ; but stick to it steadily, and you will see great effects ; 
for, 'continual dropping wears away stones,' and 'by diligence and 
patience the mouse ate in two the cable,' and 'light strokes fell great 
oaks,' as poor Richard says in his almanac, the year I cannot just now 
remember. 

"Methinks I hear some of you say, 'Must a man afford himself 
no leisure?' I will tell thee, my friend, what poor Richard says : 'Em- 
ploy thy time well, if thou meanest to gain leisure ; and since thou 
art not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour.' Leisure is time 
for doing something useful ; this leisure the diligent jnan will obtain ; 
but the lazy man never; so that, as poor Richard says, 'A life of lei- 
sure and a life of laziness are two things.' Do you imagine that sloth 
will afford you more comfort than labor ? No ; for, as poor Richard 



4o6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

says, 'Troubles spring from idleness, and grievous toils from needless 
ease : many, without labor, would live by their wits only ; but they 
break for want of stock,' Whereas industry gives comfort, and plenty, 
and respect. 'Fly pleasures, and they'll follow you; the diligent 
spinner has a large shift ; and, now I have a sheep and cow, everybody 
bids me good-morrow ; ' all which is well said by poor Richard. 

II. "But with our industry we must likewise be steady and set- 
tled and careful, and oversee our own affairs with our own eyes, and 
not trust too much to others ; for, as poor Richard says, — 

*I never saw an oft removed tree, 
Nor yet an oft removed family, 
That throve so well, as those that settled be.' 

"And again, 'Three removes are as bad as a fire ;' and again, 'Keep 
thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee ;' and again, 'If you would have 
your business done, go ; if not, send.' ^ And again, — 

*He that by the plow would thrive, 
Himself must either hold or drive.' 

"And again, 'The eye of the master will do more work than both 
his hands;' and again, 'Want of care does us more damage than want 
of knowledge;' and again, 'Not to oversee workmen, is to leave them 
your purse open ! ' Trusting too much to others' care is the ruin of 
many; for, as the almanac says, 'In the afifairs of the world, men 
are saved not by faith, but by the want of it ;' but a man's own care 
is profitable; for, saith poor Dick, 'Learning is to the studious, and 
riches to the careful, as well as power to the bold, and heaven to the 
virtuous.' And, farther, 'If you would have a faithful servant, and 
one that you like, serve yourself.' And again, he adviseth to circum- 
spection and care, even in the smallest matters, because sometimes, 
'A Httle neglect may breed great mischief;' adding, 'For want of a 
nail the shoe was lost ; for want of a shoe the horse was lost ; and for 
want of a horse the rider was lost, being overtaken and slain by the 
enemy — all for want of a little care about a horse-shoe nail.' 

III. "So much for industry, my friends, and attention to one's 
own business ; but to these we must add frugality,' if we would make 
our industry more certainly successful. A man may, if he knows not 
how to save as he gets, 'keep his nose all his life to the grindstone, and 



SELECTION FROM FRANKLIN 407 

die not worth a groat at last.' 'A fat kitchen makes a lean will,' as 
Poor Richard says, and, — 

'Many estates are spent in the getting, 
Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting, 
And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting.' 

"'If you would be wealthy,' says he in another almanac, 'Think 
of saving as well as getting : the Indies ^ have not made Spain rich, 
because her outgoes are greater than her incomes.' 

"Away then with your expensive follies, and you will not have 
much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and chargeable 
families ; for, as poor Dick says, — 

'Women and wine, game and deceit, 
Make the wealth small, and the want great.' 

"And, farther, 'What maintains one vice would bring up two chil- 
dren.' You may think, perhaps, that a Httle tea, or a little punch 
now and then, diet a little more costly, clothes a little finer, and a little 
entertainment now and then, can be no great matter ; but remember 
what poor Richard says, 'Many a little makes a mickle;' and, farther, 
'Beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship;' and 
again, 'Who dainties love shall beggars prove;' and moreover, 'Fools 
make feasts, and wise men eat them.' 

"Here you are all got together at this sale of fineries and nick-nacks. 
You call them goods; but if you do not take care, they will prove evils 
to some of you. You expect they will be sold cheap, and perhaps 
they may for less than they cost ; but if you have no occasion for them, 
they must be dear to you. Remember what poor Richard says, 'Buy 
what thou hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy necessaries.' 
And again, 'At a great pennyworth, pause awhile.' He means that 
perhaps the cheapness is apparent only, and not real ; or, the bargain, 
by straitening thee in thy business, may do thee more harm than good. 
For in another place he says, ' Many have been ruined by buying good 
pennyworths.' Again, as poor Richard says, 'It is foolish to lay out 
money in a purchase of repentance,' and yet this folly is practised every 
day at auctions, for want of minding the almanac. 'W^ise men,' as poor 
Dick says, 'learn by others' harms, fools scarcely by their own; but 
Felix quern faciiint aliena pericula cautum.'' ^ Many a one, for the sake 
of finery on the back, has gone with a hungry belly, and half starved 



4o8 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

their families: 'Silks and satins, scarlet and velvets,' as poor Richard 
says, 'put out the kitchen fire.' These are not the necessaries of life; 
they can scarcely be called the conveniences ; and yet only because they 
look pretty, how many want to have them? The artificial wants of 
mankind thus become more numerous than the natural ; and, as poor 
Dick says, 'For one poor person there are a hundred indigent.' ^^ By 
these and other extravagances the genteel are reduced to poverty 
and forced to borrow of those whom they formerly despised, but who, 
through industry and frugality, have maintained their standing; in 
which case, it appears plainly, ' A ploughman on his legs is higher than 
a gentleman on his knees,' as poor Richard says. Perhaps they have 
had a small estate left them, which they knew not the getting of ; they 
think, 'It is day, and will never be night ;' that a little to be spent out 
of so much is not worth minding : ' A child and a fool (as poor Richard 
says) imagine twenty shillings and twenty years can never be spent ; 
but always be taking out of the meal-tub, and never putting in, soon 
comes to the bottom;' then, as poor Dick says, 'When the well is dry, 
they know the worth of water.' But this they might have known 
before, if they had taken his advice. If you would know the value of 
money, go and try to borrow some ; for 'He that goes a borrowing goes 
a sorrowing ;' and, indeed, so does he that lends to such people, when he 
goes to get it again. Poor Dick farther advises, and says, — 

* Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse ; 
Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse.' 

"And again, 'Pride is as loud a beggar as Want, and a great deal 
more saucy.' When you have bought one fine thing, you must buy 
ten more, that your appearance may be all of a piece ; but poor Dick 
says, 'It is easier to suppress the first desire than to satisfy all that 
follow it.' And it is as truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as for 
the frog to swell, in order to equal the ox. 

' Vessels large may venture more, 
But little boats should keep near shore.' 

'"Tis, however, a folly soon punished; for, 'Pride that dines on 
vanity, sups on contempt,' as poor Richard says. And, in another 
place, 'Pride breakfasted with Plenty, dined with Poverty, and supped 
with Infamy.' And after all, of what use is this pride of appearance 



SELECTION FROM FRANKLIN 409 

for which so much is risked, so much is suffered? It cannot promote 
health nor ease pain ; it makes no increase of merit in the person ; it 
creates envy; it hastens misfortune. 

'What is a butterfly? at best, 
He's but a caterpillar dress'd ; 
The gaudy fop's his picture just,' 

as poor Richard says. 

"But what madness must it be to run in debt for these superflui- 
ties : we are offered by the terms of this sale six months credit, and that 
perhaps has induced some of us to attend it, because we cannot spare 
the ready money, and hope now to be fine without it, But ah ! think 
what you do when you run in debt. You give to another power over 
your liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed to 
see your creditor : you will be in fear when you speak to him ; you 
will make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses, and by degrees come to 
lose your veracity, and sink into base, downright lying; for, as poor 
Richard says, 'The second vice is lying; the first is running in debt.' 
And again, to the same purpose, 'Lying rides upon debt's back ;' where- 
as a freeborn Englishman ought not to be ashamed nor afraid to speak 
to any man living. But poverty often deprives a man of all spirit 
and virtue: 'It is hard for an empty bag to stand upright,' as poor 
Richard truly says. What would you think of that prince or that 
government, who would issue an edict, forbidding you to dress like a 
gentleman or gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude? 
would you not say that you were free, have a right to dress as you 
please, and that such an edict would be a breach of your privileges, 
and such a government tyrannical? And yet you are about to put 
yourself under that tyranny when you run in debt for such dress! 
Your creditor has authority, at his pleasure, to deprive you of your 
liberty, 'by confining you in gaol for Hfe,' " or by selling you for a 
servant, if you should not be able to pay him. W'hen you have got 
your bargain, you may, perhaps, think little of payment ; but, 'Credit- 
ors (poor Richard tells us) have better memories than debtors;' and 
in another place he says, 'Creditors are a superstitious sect, great ob- 
servers of set days and times.' The day comes round before you are 
aware, and the demand is made before you are prepared to satisfy it. 
Or if you bear your debt in mind, the term, which at first seemed so 



4IO AMERICAN LITERATURE 

long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. Time will seem to 
have added wings to his heels as well as at his shoulders. 'Those have 
a short Lent (saith poor Richard) who owe money to be paid at Easter.' 
Then since, as he says, 'The borrower is a slave to the lender, and the 
debtor to the creditor ; ' disdain the chain, preserve your freedom, and 
maintain your independency: be industrious and free; be frugal and 
free. At present, perhaps, you may think yourselves in thriving cir- 
cumstances, and that you can bear a little extravagance without injury ; 
but, as poor Richard says, — 

'For age and want, save while you may, 
No morning sun lasts a whole day.' 

''Gain may be temporary and uncertain; but ever, while you live, 
expense is constant and certain; and 'It is easier to build two chim- 
neys than to keep one in fuel,' as poor Richard says. So 'Rather go 
to bed supperless than rise in debt.' 

* Get what you can, and what you get, hold ; 
'Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold,' 

as poor Richard says. And when you have got the philosopher's stone, 
sure you will no longer complain of bad times or the difficulty of paying 
taxes. 

IV. "This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom: but, after 
aU, do not depend too much upon your own industry, and frugality, 
and prudence, though excellent things; for they may all be blasted 
without the blessing of Heaven ; ^^ and, therefore, ask that blessing 
humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at present seem to want 
it, but comfort and help them. Remember Job suffered, and was 
afterwards prosperous. 

"And now, to conclude, 'Experience keeps a dear school; but fools 
will learn in no other, and scarce in that ; for it is true, we may give 
advice, but we cannot give conduct,' as poor Richard says. However, 
remember this, 'They that will not be counseled, cannot be helped,' 
as Poor Richard says ; and, farther, that ' If you will not hear Reason, 
she will surely rap your knuckles.'" 

Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people heard 
it, and approved the doctrine, and immediately practised the contrary, 
just as if it had been a common sermon ; for the auction opened, and 



SELECTION FROM FRANKLIN 411 

they began to buy extravagantly, notwithstanding all his cautions, and 
their own fear of taxes. I found the good man had thoroughly studied 
my almanacs, and digested all I had dropped on these topics, during 
the course of twenty-five years. The frequent mention he made of me 
must have tired every one else ; but my vanity was wonderfully de- 
lighted with it, though I was conscious that not a tenth part of the 
wisdom was my own, which he ascribed to me, but rather the glean- 
ings that I had made of the sense of all ages and nations. However, 
I resolved to be the better for the echo of it ; and though I had at first 
determined to buy stuff for a new coat, I went away, resolved to wear 
my old one a little longer. Reader, if thou wilt do the same, thy profit 
will be as great as mine. 

I am, as ever, thine to serve thee, 

Richard Saunders. 



412 AM ERIC Ay LITERATURE 



NOTES TO fr-\xi:lin 

See the sketch of Franklin for an account of the "Almanac," and the popu- 
larity of Father Abraham's speech. 

1. The opening pragraphs well illustrate Franklin's style. It is clear 
and natural, and pen-aded by a kindly humor. The flavor of Addison's Spec- 
tator is easily recognized. The Saxon element of our language predominates, 
and there is almost a total lack of figurative language. 

2. Note the et\-molog\-: Latin augere, to increase. "A public sale, where 
the price was called out and the article sold adjudged to the last increaser of 
the price, or the highest biddej." — Webster. 

The place for Father Abraham's speech was wisely chosen. The auctions 
of those days were scenes of extravagance and folly. The people, summoned 
by bell and crier, gathered long before the sale began, and were supplied with 
rum by the salesman. Thus, when the auction began, they were in a condition 
to pay prices they would not have thought of in their sober senses. 

3. The people might well inquire of the times. It was a day of darkness 
and gloom. "The French and Indian War had been raging four years; and 
success was still with the French. Washington had been driven from Fort 
Necessity. Braddock had perished in the woods. The venture against Niagara 
had failed. That against Ticonderoga had done little. The sea swarmed with 
French and Spanish privateers. Trade was dull. Taxes were hea\'y. Grum- 
bhng was ever\-where. Men of all sorts bemoaned the hard times." — Mc- 

M.\STER. 

4. Here we are introduced to Franklin's philosophy of life. It has been 
called "the candle-end-saWng philosophy." Moral considerations for their 
own sake hardly entered into it. The \-irtues of industr>', frugality, and in- 
tegrit>' were to be practised as the best policy. Idleness, wastefulness, and 
knavery were to be avoided because experience shows that they do not pay. 

5. Note the four di\-isions of the speech or sermon. The first treats of 
industr>-; the second, of attention to one's business; the third, of frugahty; 
the fourth (and ver>- briefly), of the blessing of Heaven. It would be difficult 
to find elsewhere so much practical wisdom crowded into a small space. The 
maxims, for the most part, were not original, but taken from every available 
source. Many of them were improved by Franklin's happy phraseolog>'. For 
example, the aphorism, "Bad hours and ill company have ruined many fine 
young people," was transformed in "Poor Richard" into, "The rotten apple 
spoils his companions." 



NOTES TO FRANKLIN 413 

6. This adage is noteworthy for its connection with an event in the life 
of the Revolutionar>' hero, Paul Jones, -\fter his celebrated \-ictor>' in the 
Ranger, he went to Brest to await the command of a new ship that had been 
promised him. He waited for months in vain. He wrote to Franklin, to the 
royal family, and to the king, but was put off with delays and excuses. Finally, 
he happened to pick up a copy of ''Poor Richard," and read, "If you would 
have your business done, go; if not, send;'' and profiting by the lesson, he 
hastened to Versailles, and there got an order for the purchase of a ship, which, 
in honor of his teacher, he renamed the Bon Homme Richard. 

7. It is significant that Franklin uses the vrord frugality rather than econ- 
omy. It is more in harmony with his practical philosophy. ^^ Economy a.\'oids 
all waste and extravagance, and applies mone\' to the best advantage ; fru- 
gality cuts off all indulgences, and proceeds on a system of rigid and habitual 
sa\'ing." Frugality is in danger of running into the N-ice of parsimony. 

8. These are the West Indies, to which Spain originally laid claim by the 
so-called right of discover}-. Of all the islands not one now belongs to Spain. 
The extensive revenues at one time derived from the Indies were squandered 
in foreign wars and domestic strife. 

9. " Fortunate is the man who learns by the experience of others." 

10. According to Franklin's distinction, a poor person is one who cannot 
supply his natural wants; an indigent person is one who cannot supply his 
artificial wants. Hence we may give the sense of the maxim by sa>-ing, More 
persons suffer from artificial than from natural wants. 

11. The law gixing the creditor a right to imprison the debtor in default 
of pavTnent continued tUl late into the nineteenth centur>'. It was abohshed in 
New York in 183 1. The histor}- of the relation of debtor and creditor shows 
the march of social progress. In ancient times the creditor had power not 
only over the person of the debtor, but over his wife and children also. A 
reference to this fact is found in Matt. x\ii{. 25. 

12. Franklin firmlj- believed in an overruling Pro\-idence. In his last 
illness he expressed his gratitude to the Supreme Being, "who had raised 
him, from small and low beginnings, to such high rank and consideration 
among men.'' This belief is clearly seen in his speech before the convention 
assembled to frame the Constitution of the United States, when he moved that 

• the sessions be opened each da}" with prayer. "I have lived, sir, a long time; 
and, the longer I live, the more con\-incing proofs I see of this truth, thcU God 
governs in the affairs of men : and, if a sparrow cannot fall to the gro\md without 
his notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without his aid? We have 
been assured, sir, in the Sacred Writings, that 'except the Lord bmld the 
house, they labor in vain that build it.' I firmly believe this." 



414 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

IV 

SELECTION FROM JONATHAN EDWARDS 

RESOLUTIONS 

Being sensible that I am unable to do anything without God's 
help, I do humbly entreat him by his grace, to enable me to keep these 
resolutions, so far as they are agreeable to his will, for Christ's sake. 

Remember to read over these resolutions once a week, 

1. Resolved, That I will do whatsoever I think to be most to the 
glory of God ^ and my own good, profit, and pleasure, in the whole of 
my duration, without any consideration of the time, whether now, or 
never so many myriads of ages hence. Resolved, to do whatever I 
think to be my duty, and most for the good of mankind in general. 
Resolved so to do, whatever difficulties I meet with, how many soever, 
and how great soever. 

2. Resolved, To be continually endeavoring to find out some new 
contrivance and invention to promote the forementioned things. 

3. Resolved, If ever I shall fall and grow dull, so as to neglect to 
keep any part of these resolutions, to repent of all I can remember, 
when I come to myself again. 

4. Resolved, Never to do any manner of thing, whether in soul or 
body, less or more, but what tends to the glory of God ; nor be, nor siifer 
it, if I can possibly avoid it. 

5. Resolved, Never to lose one moment of time, but to improve it 
in the most profitable way I possibly can. 

6. Resolved, To live with all my might while I do live. 

7. Resolved, Never to do any thing which I should be afraid to do, 
if it were the last hour of my life. 

8. Resolved, To act, in all respects, both speaking and doing, as 
if nobody had been so vile as I, and as if I had committed the same 
sins, or had the same infirmities or failings as others ; and that I will 
let the knowledge of their failings promote nothing but shame in myself, 
and prove only an occasion of my confessing my own sins and misery 
to God. 



SELECTION FROM JONATHAN EDWARDS 415 

9. Resolved, To think much, on all occasions, of my own dying and 
of the common circumstances which attend death.^ 

10. Resolved, When I feel pain, to think of the pains of martyrdom 
and of hell. 

11. Resolved, When I think of any theorem in divinity to be solved, 
immediately to do what I can towards solving it, if circumstances do 
not hinder. 

12. Resolved, If I take delight in it as a gratification of pride or 
vanity, or on any such account, immediately to throw it by. 

13. Resolved, To be endeavoring to find out fit objects of charity and 
liberality. 

14. Resolved, Never to do any thing out of revenge. 

15. Resolved, Never to suffer the least motions of anger towards 
irrational beings. 

16. Resolved, Never to speak evil of any one so that it shall tend 
to his dishonor, more or less, upon no account, except for some real 
good. 

17. Resolved, That I will live so, as I shall wish I had done when 
I come to die. 

18. Resolved, To Hve so at all times, as I think it best, in my most 
devout frames, and when I have the clearest notion of the things of the 
gospel and another world. 

19. Resolved, Never to do any thing which I should be afraid to do, 
if I expected it would not be above an hour before I should hear the last 
trump. 

20. Resolved, To maintain the strictest temperance in eating and 
drinking. 

21. Resolved, Never to do any thing, which, if I should see in an- 
other, I should account a just occasion to despise him for, or to think 
any way the more meanly of him. 

22. Resolved, To endeavor to obtain for myself as much happiness 
in the other world, as I possibly can, with all the might, power, vigor, 
and vehemence, yea, violence, I am capable of, or can bring myself to 
exert, in any way that can be thought of.^ 

23. Resolved, Frequently to take some deliberate action, which 
seems most unlikely to be done for the glory of God, and trace it back 
to the original intention, designs, and ends of it ; and, if I find it not 
to be for God's glory, to repute it as a breach of the fourth resolution. 



4i6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

24. Resolved, Whenever I do any conspicuously evil action, to 
trace it back till I come to the original cause.; and then, both care- 
fully to endeavor to do so no more, and to fight and pray with all my 
might against the original of it. 

25. Resolved, To examine carefully and constantly what that one 
thing in me is, which causes me in the least to doubt of the love of God ; 
and to direct all my forces against it. 

26. Resolved, To cast away such things as I find do abate my assurance.'* 

27. Resolved, Never wilfully to omit any thing, except the omission 
be for the glory of God ; and frequently to examine my omissions. 

28. Resolved, To study the Scriptures so steadily, constantly, and 
frequently, as that I may find, and plainly perceive myself to grow in 
the knowledge of the same. 

29. Resolved, Never to count that a prayer, nor to let that pass as 
a prayer, nor that as a petition of a prayer, which is so made, that I 
cannot hope that God will answer it ; nor that as a confession, which 
I cannot hope God will accept. 

30. Resolved, To strive every week to be brought higher in reli- 
gion, and to a higher exercise of grace than I was the week before. 

31. Resolved, Never to say any thing at all against anybody, but 
when it is perfectly agreeable to the highest degree of Christian honor, 
and of love to mankind ; agreeable to the lowest humility and sense of 
my own faults and failings ; and agreeable to the Golden Rule ; often 
when I have said any thing against any one, to bring it to, and try it 
strictly by, the test of this resolution. 

32. Resolved, To be strictly and firmly faithful to my trust, and 
that that in Proverbs xx. 6, ''A faithful man, who can find?" may not 
be partly fulfilled in me. 

33. Resolved, To do always toward making, maintaining, and pre- 
serving peace, when it can be done without an overbalancing detri- 
ment in other respects. 

34. Resolved, In narrations, never to speak any thing but the pure 
and simple verity. 

35. Resolved, Whenever I so much question whether I have done 
my duty, as that my quiet and calm is thereby disturbed, to set it down, 
and also how the question was resolved. 

36. Resolved, Never to speak evil of any, except I have some par- 
ticular good call to it, 



SELECTION FROM JONATHAN EDWARDS 417 

37. Resolved, To inquire every night, as I am going to bed, wherein 
I have been neghgent ; what sin I have committed ; and wherein I have 
denied myself. Also at the end of every week, month, and year. 

38. Resolved, Never to utter any thing that is sportive, or matter 
of laughter, on a Lord's day.^ 

3Q. Resolved, Never to do any thing of which I so much question the 
lawfulness, as that I intend at the same time to consider and examine 
afterwards whether it be lawful or not, unless I as much question the 
lawfulness of the omission. 

40. Resolved, To inquire every night before I go to bed, whether 
I have acted in the best way I possibly could with respect to eating 
and drinking. 

41. Resolved, To ask myself, at the end of every day, week, month, 
and year, wherein I could possibly, in any respect, have done better. 

42. Resolved, Frequently to renew the dedication of myself to God, 
which was made at my baptism ; which I solemnly renewed when I 
was received into the communion of the Church ; and which I have 
solemnly remade this 12 th day of January, 1723. 

43. Resolved, Never, henceforward, till I die, to act as if I were 
any way my own, but entirely and altogether God's ; agreeably to what 
is to be found in Saturday, January 12th, 1723. 

44. Resolved, That no other end but religion shall have any influence 
at all on any of my actions ; and that no action shall be, in the least 
circumstance, any otherwise than the religious end will carry it.^ 

45. Resolved, Never to allow any pleasure or grief, joy or sorrow, 
nor any affection at all, nor any degree of affection, nor any circum- 
stance relating to it, but what helps rehgion. 

46. Resolved, Never to allow the least measure of fretting or un- 
easiness at my father or mother. Resolved, to suffer no effects of it, 
so much as in the least alteration of speech, or motion of my eye ; and 
to be especially careful of it with respect to any of our family. 

47. Resolved, To endeavor, to my utmost, to deny whatever is not 
most agreeable to a good and universally sweet and benevolent, quiet, 
peaceable, contented and easy, compassionate and generous, humble 
and meek, submissive and obliging, diligent and industrious, charitable 
and even, patient, moderate, forgiving, and sincere temper; and to 
do, at all times, what such a temper would lead me to, and to examine, 
strictly, at the end of every week, whether I have so done, 



41 8 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

48. Resolved, Constantly, with the utmost niceness and dihgence, 
and the strictest scrutiny, to be looking into the state of my soul, that 
I may know whether I have truly an interest in Christ or not ; that, 
when I come to die, I may not have any negligence respecting this, to 
repent of. 

49. Resolved, That this shall never be, if I can help it. 

50. Resolved, That I will act so, as I think I shall judge would have 
been best and most prudent, when I come into the future world. 

51. Resolved, That I will act so, in every respect, as I think I shall 
wish I had done, if I should at last be damned. 

52. I frequently hear persons in old age say how they would live, 
if they were to live their lives over again. Resolved, that I will live just 
so as I can think I shall wish I had done, supposing I live to old age. 

53. Resolved, To improve every opportunity, when I am in the 
best and happiest frame of mind, to cast and venture my soul on the 
Lord Jesus Christ, to trust and confide in him, and consecrate myself 
wholly to him ; that from this I may have assurance of my safety, 
knowing that I confide in my Redeemer. 

54. Resolved, Whenever I hear any thing spoken in commendation 
of any person, if I think it would be praiseworthy in me, that I will 
endeavor to imitate it. 

55. Resolved, To endeavor, to my utmost, so to act as I can think 
I should do, if I had already seen the happiness of heaven, and hell 
torments. 

56. Resolved, Never to give over, nor in the least to slacken my 
fight with my corruptions, however unsuccessful I may be. 

57. Resolved, When I fear misfortunes and adversity, to examine 
whether I have done my duty, and resolve to do it, and let the event 
be just as Providence orders it. I will, as far as I can, be concerned 
about nothing but my duty and my sin. 

58. Resolved, Not only to refrain from an air of dislike, fretfulness, 
and anger in conversation; but to exhibit an air of love, cheerfulness, 
and benignity. 

59. Resolved, When I am most conscious of provocations to ill- 
nature and anger, that I will strive most to feel and act good-naturedly ; 
yea, at such times to manifest good-nature, though I think that in 
other respects it would be disadvantageous, and so as would be impru- 
dent at other times. 



SELECTION FROM JONATHAN EDWARDS 419 

60. Resolved, Whenever my feelings begin to appear in the least 
out of order, when I am conscious of the least uneasiness within, or the 
least irregularity without, I will then subject myself to the strictest 
exammation. 

61. Resolved, That I will not give way to that listlessness which I 
find unbends and relaxes my mind from being fully and fixedly set on 
religion, whatever excuse I may have for it ; that what my Ustlessness 
inclines me to do, is best to be done, etc. 

62. Resolved, Never to do any thing but my duty, and then, ac- 
cording to Ephesians vi. 6-8, to do it willingly and cheerfully, as unto 
the Lord, and not to man ; knowing, that whatever good any man 
doth, the same shall he receive of the Lord. 

63. On the supposition that there never was to be but one individ- 
ual in the world at any one time who was properly a complete Chris- 
tian, in all respects of a right stamp, having Christianity always shin- 
ing in its true lustre, and appearing excellent and lovely, from what- 
ever part, and under whatever character viewed; — Resolved, to act 
just as I would do, if I strove with all my might to be that one, who 
should live in my time." 

64. Resolved, When I find those "groanings which cannot be ut- 
tered," of which the Apostle speaks, and those "breakings of soul for 
the longing it hath," of which the Psalmist speaks. Psalm cxix. 20, 
that I will promote them to the utmost of my power, and that I will 
not be weary of earnestly endeavoring to vent my desires, nor of the 
repetitions of such earnestness. 

65. Resolved, Very much to exercise myself in this, all my life long, 
namely, with the greatest openness of which I am capable, to declare 
my ways to God, and lay open my soul to him, all my sins, tempta- 
tions, difficulties, sorrows, fears, hopes, desires, and every thing, and 
every circumstance, according to Dr. Manton's Sermon on the 119th 
Psalm. ^ 

66. Resolved, That I will endeavor always to keep a benign aspect, 
and air of acting and speaking, in all places and in all companies, ex- 
cept it should so happen that duty requires otherwise. 

67. Resolved, After afflictions to inquire. What am I the better for 
them? what good I have got by them, and what I might have got by 
them. 

68. Resolved, To confess frankly to myself all that which I find in 



420 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

myself, either infirmity or sin; and, if it be what concerns religion, 
also to confess the whole case to God, and implore needed help. 

69. Resolved, Always to do that which I shall wish I had done, 
when I see others do it. 

70. Let there be something of benevolence in all that I speak. 



NOTES TO JONATHAN EDWARDS 421 



NOTES TO JONATHAN EDWARDS 

For a general introduction to the Resolutions, see the sketch of Edwards. 

The lives of Franklin and Edwards present a striking and instructive con- 
trast. Franklin lived for this life ; Edwards for the life to come. Franklin 
aimed at worldly success; Edwards at moral and spiritual excellence. Frank- 
lin stored his mind with maxims of practical wisdom ; Edwards with the moral 
precepts of the Scriptures. Franklin led a busy life among men, seeking to 
improve their material condition; Edwards lived in communion with God, 
seeking to grow in spiritual wisdom and culture. Both lives were, perhaps, 
a little one-sided. It would have been better for Franklin if he had paid 
more attention to moral and spiritual truth. His character would have gained 
in completeness and beauty ; and his life would have escaped the moral obli- 
quities with which it is stained. It would have been better for Edwards if 
his piety had been more genial. His character would have gained in attrac- 
tiveness, and his life would have appealed more strongly to the sympathies of 
men. 

Edwards was a profound student of the Scripture. Its truths had become a 
part of his ordinary store of thought and feeling. These Resolutions seem 
to have been original productions, growing directly out of his own religious 
life; yet most of them embody Scripture truth. The general tone of them, 
however, shows a Puritan rigor that is commonly regarded to-day as imtrue 
alike to the gospel and to human life. But this rigor, it should not be for- 
gotten, was characteristic of the best religious life in New England during the 
Colonial period. 

1. "WTiether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do aU to the 
glory of God." — i Cor. x. 31. In like manner nearly every resolution may 
be illustrated from the Scriptures. Under favorable circumstances, such an 
illustration might be assigned as an exercise. 

2. This and the following resolution show the Puritanic t>pe of faith. 
Such habitual meditation on death is not urged in the Scripture, nor is it help- 
ful to the life and character. 

3. This resolution savors of what has been called " other- worldliness." The 
best preparation for happiness in the other world is a faithful discharge of our 
duty in all the relations of this world. 

4. By assurance is here meant full confidence in God's favor. 

5. This resolution again reminds us of the exaggerated Puritanism that 
found expression in the so-called "Blue Laws," some of the requirements of 
which were as follows : "No one shall rim on the Sabbath day, or shaU walk in 



422 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

his garden or elsewhere, except reverently to and from meeting. No one 
shall travel, cook victuals, make beds, sweep house, cut hair or shave on the 
Sabbath day. No woman shall kiss her child on the Sabbath or fasting day." 

6. This seems to bring out clearly the one-sidedness of Edwards's life. 
Religion is only a part of life. It is not so much an end in itself as a means 
to ennoble character and sanctify human relations. When religion is viewed 
otherwise than in relation to the common duties of life, it is apt to degenerate 
into asceticism. 

7. From this and preceding resolutions, it will appear that Edwards's 
type of piety was too self-centred. He was continually thinking of himself, 
of his state of mind, and of his spiritual attainments and deficiencies. It may 
be questioned whether this attitude of mind is best. We should think more 
of God and of duty, and then our inward states will largely take care of them- 
selves. 

8. The Rev. Thomas Manton, D.D., was a distinguished Puritan preacher 
in England. He was born in 1620 and died in 1677. One of his most admired 
works is "CXC Sermons on the CXIX Psalm." 



SELECTION FROM JEFFERSON 423 

V 

SELECTION FROM JEFFERSON 

A DECLARATION BY THE REPRESENTATIVES OF THE 
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA IN GENERAL CONGRESS 
ASSEMBLED 

When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for 
one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them 
with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth the sepa- 
rate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God 
entitle them, a decent ^ respect to the opinions of mankind requires that 
they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. 

We hold these truths to be self-evident : that all men are created 
equal ; ^ that they are endowed by their Creator with [inherent and] ^ 
inalienable rights ; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit 
of happiness ; that to secure these rights, governments are instituted 
among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the gov- 
erned ; that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of 
these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and 
to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles, 
and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most 
likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dic- 
tate that governments long establi hed should not be changed for 
light and transient causes ; and accordingly all experience hath shown 
that mankind are more disposed to suffer while evils are sufiferable 
than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are 
accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, [begun 
at a distinguished period and] * pursuing invariably the same object, 
evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their 
right, it is their duty to throw oiT such government, and to provide 
new guards for their future security. Such has been the patient suf- 
ferance of these colonies ; and such is now the necessity which con- 
strains them to [expunge] '" their former systems of government. The 
history of the present king of Great Britain ^ is a history of [unremit- 



424 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

ting] ^ injuries and usurpations, [among which appears no solitary 
fact to contradict the uniform tenor of the rest, but all have] ^ in direct 
object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over these states. 
To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world, [for the truth of 
which we pledge a faith yet unsullied by falsehood].^ 

He has refused his assent to laws the most wholesome and neces- 
sary for the public good. 

He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate and press- 
ing importance, unless suspended in their operation, till his assent 
should be obtained ; and, when so suspended, he has utterly neglected 
to attend to them. 

He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation of large 
districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of 
representation in the legislature, a right inestimable to them, and for- 
midable to tyrants only. 

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncom- 
fortable, and distant from the repository of their public records, for 
the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures. 

He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly [and continu- 
ally] ^° for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of 
the people. 

He has refused for a long time after such dissolutions to cause others 
to be elected, whereby the legislative powers, incapable of annihila- 
tion, have returned to the people at large for their exercise, the state 
remaining, in the meantime, exposed to all the dangers of invasion 
from without and convulsions within. 

He has endeavored to prevent the population of these states ; for 
that purpose obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreigners, re- 
fusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising 
the conditions of new appropriations of lands. 

He has [suffered] " the administration of justice [totally to cease 
in some of these states], refusing his assent to laws for establishing 
judiciary powers. 

He has made [our]^^ judges dependent on his will alone for the tenure 
of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries. 

He has erected a multitude of new offices [by a self-assumed power] ,^' 
and sent hither swarms of new officers to harass our people and eat out 
their substance. 



SELECTION FROM JEFFERSON 425 

He has kept among us in times of peace standing armies [and ships 
of war]" without the consent of our legislatures. 

He has affected to render the military independent of, and superior 
to, the civil power. 

He has combined with othe s to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign 
to our constitutions and unacknowledged by our laws, giving his as- 
sent to their acts of pretended legislation for quartering large bodies 
of armed troops among us ; for protecting them by a mock trial from 
punishment for any murders which they should commit on the inhab- 
itants of these states ; for cutting off our trade with all parts of the 
world; for imposing taxes on us without our consent; for depriving 
us'^ of the benefits of trial by jury; for transporting us beyond seas 
to be tried for pretended offences; for abolishing the free system of 
English laws in a neighboring province, establishing therein an arbi- 
trary government, and enlarging its boundaries, so as to render it at 
once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute 
rule into these [states] ; ^^ for taking away our charters, abolishing our 
most valuable laws,i^ and altering fundamentally the forms of our gov- 
ernments ; for suspending our own legislatures, and declaring them- 
selves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever. 

He has abdicated government here, [withdrawing his governors, 
and declaring us out of his allegiance and protection]. ^^ 

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, 
and destroyed the lives. of our people. 

He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries 
to complete the works of death, desolation, and tyranny already begun 
with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy ^^ unworthy the head of a 
civilized nation. 

He has constrained our fellow citizens taken captive on the high 
seas, to bear arms against their country, to become the executioners of 
their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands. 

He has 20 endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers 
the merciless Indian savages, whose known rule of warfare is an un- 
distinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, and conditions [of existence.]2i 
[He has incited treasonable insurrections of our fellow citizens, 
with the allurements of forfeiture and confiscation of our property. 

He has waged cruel war against human nature itself, violating its 
most sacred rights of life and liberty in the persons of a distant people 



426 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

who never offended him, captivating and carrying them into slavery in 
another hemisphere, or to incur miserable death in their transportation 
thither. This piratical warfare, the opprobrium of infidel powers, is 
the warfare of the Christian king of Great Britain. Determined to 
keep open a market where men should be bought and sold, he has pros- 
tituted his negative for suppressing every legislative attempt to prohibit 
or to restrain this execrable commerce. And that this assemblage 
of horrors might want no fact of distinguished die, he is now exciting 
these very people to rise in arms among us, and to purchase that liberty 
of which he has deprived them, by murdering the people on whom 
he also obtruded them : thus paying off former crimes committed against 
the LIBERTIES of One people, with crimes which he urges them to com- 
mit against the lives of another.] ^^ 

In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for redress 
in the most humble terms : our repeated petitions have been answered 
only 2^ by repeated injuries. 

A prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may 
define a tyrant is unfit to be the ruler of a people [who mean to be free. 
Future ages will scarcely believe that the hardiness of one man adven- 
tured, within the short compass of twelve years only, to lay a founda- 
tion so broad and so undisguised for tyranny over a people fostered 
and fixed in principles of freedom.] ^^ 

Nor have we been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. 
We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legisla- 
ture to extend [a] ^^ jurisdiction over [these our states] .^^ We have 
reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement 
here, [no one of which could warrant so strange a pretension: that 
these were effected at the expense of our own blood and treasure, un- 
assisted by the wealth or strength of Great Britain: that in consti- 
tuting indeed our several forms of government, we had adopted one com- 
mon king, thereby laying a foundation for perpetual league and amity 
with them: but that submission to their parliament was no part of 
our constitution, nor ever an idea, if history may be credited : and] ^^ 
we ^^ appealed to their native justice and magnanimity [as well as to]^* 
the ties of one common kindred to disavow these usurpations which 
[were likely to] ^^ interrupt our connection and correspondence. They 
too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity, [and 
when occasions have been given them, by the regular course of their 



SELECTION FROM JEFFERSON 427 

laws, of removing from their councils the disturbers of our harmony, 
they have, by their free election, re-established them in power. At 
this very time, too, they are permitting their chief magistrate to send 
over not only soldiers of our own common blood, but Scotch and for- 
eign mercenaries to invade and destroy us. These facts have given 
the last stab to agonizing affection, and manly spirit bids us to re- 
nounce forever these unfeeling brethren. We must endeavor to for- 
get our former love for them, and hold them as we hold the rest of man- 
kind, enemies in war, in peace friends. We might have been a free and 
a great people together; but a communication of grandeur and of 
freedom, it seems, is below their dignity. Be it so, since they will have 
it. The road to happiness and to glory is open to us too. We will 
tread it apart from them, and] ^" acquiesce in the necessity which de- 
nounces our [eternal] ^^ separation. 

We therefore the representatives of the United States of America 
in General Congress assembled, appealing to the supreme Judge of 
the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do in the name, and by 
the authority of the good people of these [states reject and renounce 
all allegiance and subjection to the kings of Great Britain and all others 
who may hereafter claim by, through or under them ; we utterly dis- 
solve all political connection which may heretofore have subsisted 
between us and the people or parliament of Great Britain : and finally 
we do assert and declare these colonies to be free and independent 
states], ^^ and that as free and independent states, they have full power 
to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, 
and to do all other acts and things which independent states may of 
right do. 

And for the support of this declaration,-^^ we mutually pledge to 
each other, our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor. 



428 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



NOTES TO JEFFERSON 

The leading facts connected with the preparation and adoption of the 
Declaration have already been given. In every respect it is a remarkable 
document. It is methodical in its structure, consisting of (i) a formal intro- 
duction, (2) a statement of fundamental principles, (3) a striking array of facts, 
and (4) a practical conclusion. Its language is correct, clear, and strong. It 
is a powerful argument suffused with emotion. This latter element gives it 
the rhetorical form, which has been criticised as excessive. It was admirably 
suited to its purpose, and was at once accepted by the American people as a 
fitting and triumphant statement of their cause. 

The Declaration had a happy effect upon the colonies. It gave them a 
definite object, and inspired a corresponding resolution and courage. Whether 
read to the army or to assemblies of the people, it aroused extraordinary en- 
thusiasm. It was everywhere celebrated with festive gayeties and devout 
thanksgivings. 

The originality of the document has unjustly been called into question. 
As we have seen in our study of Jefferson and of the Revolutionary period, 
the principles and facts it contains were a common possession of the colonial 
patriots. Its originality . consists in its incomparable arrangement and state- 
ment of these facts and principles. Under the circumstances, no other origi- 
nality was desirable or possible. 

For two days prior to its adoption, the Declaration passed through a fiery 
ordeal of criticism. Not only every paragraph, but every sentence and every 
word, was subjected to searching and captious examination. Numerous ex- 
pressions were changed ; and the omissions amount to nearly one-third of the 
entire paper. Upon the whole, the result of this minute criticism was an 
almost faultless perfection of form. The Declaration, as given in the text, is 
the original draft prepared by Jefferson ; and the notes are chiefly concerned 
with the changes introduced. 

When the Declaration was under discussion, Jefferson remained silent. 
As we have seen, he was not strong as a speaker. But who can doubt the 
intense interest with which he followed the discussion? According to his 
judgment, John Adams "was the colossus in that debate." He fought "fear- 
lessly for every word of it — - and with a power to which a mind masculine and 
impassioned in its conceptions — a will of torrent-like force — a heroism which 
only glared forth more luridly at the approach of danger — and a patriotism 
whose burning throb was rather akin to the feeling of a parent fighting over his 
offspring, than to the colder sentiment of tamer animals, lent resistless sway." 



NOTES TO JEFFERSON 429 

Jefferson was keenly sensitive to the attacks that were made upon the 
Declaration. During one of the debates, he was sitting by Franklin, who 
noticed that he was writhing a little under some acrimonious criticisms, and who 
comforted him with a characteristic anecdote. "I have made it a rule," said 
Franklin, "whenever in my power, to avoid becoming draughtsman of papers 
to be reviewed by a public body. I took my lesson from an incident which I 
will relate to you. When I was a journeyman printer, one of my companions, 
an apprentice hatter, having served out his time, was about to open shop for 
himself. His first concern was to have a handsome sign-board, with a proper 
inscription. He composed it in these words : 'John Thompson, Hatter, makes 
and sells hats for ready money,' with a figure of a hat subjoined ; but he thought 
he would submit it to his friends for their amendments. The first he showed 
it to thought the word 'Hatter' tautologous, because followed by the words, 
'makes hats,' which show he was a hatter. It was struck out. The next ob- 
served that the word ' makes ' might as well be omitted, because his customers 
would not care who made the hats. If good and to their mind, they would 
buy, by whomsoever made. He struck it out. A third thought the words 
*for ready money' were useless, as it was not the custom of the place to sell on 
credit. Everyone who purchased e.xpected to pay. They were parted with, 
and the inscription now stood, 'John Thompson sells hats.' 'Sells hats!' says 
his next friend; 'why, nobody will expect you to give them away; what then 
is the use of that word? ' It was stricken out, and ' hats ' followed it, the rather 
as there was one painted on the board. So the inscription was reduced ulti- 
mately to 'John Thompson,' with the figure of a hat subjoined." 

1. Decent = proper, becoming. From Latin decere, to be fitting or be- 
coming, through the French. 

2. Equal, not in intellect or body, nor in the circumstances of birth, but in 
civil freedom. The distinctions of master and slave, nobles and commons, 
kings and subjects, are not made by nature. They are artificial distinctions; 
and though answering a good purpose for a time, they are not permanent. 
This statement of the Declaration has often been misunderstood. 

3. " Certain" was substituted for the words in brackets. 

4. The words in brackets were struck out, with a perceptible gain in force. 
The phraseology is substantially the same as in "The Summary View of the 
Rights of British America." See sketch of Jefferson. 

5. "Alter" was substituted, with a gain in clearness and precision. 

6. Jefferson had written "his present majesty"; it was John Adams who 
suggested the wording of the text, which is an improvement. 

7. "Repeated" was substituted, with a decided gain in precision. 

8. The sentence in brackets was struck out, the phrase "all having" being 
inserted to retain the grammatical connection. There is a perceptible gain in 
brevity and force. 



430 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

g. This last sentence was wisely omitted. 

10. Omitted, with evident gain in precision. 

11. " Obstructed "was inserted here, and " 63' " took the place of the following 
bracketed clause. There is a gain in precision, brevity, and force. 

12. Omitted, at the suggestion of Frankhn. 

13. Omitted, with a gain in force. 

14. Omitted. 

15. "In many cases'^ was inserted after "wj," in order to conform the 
statement exactly to the facts. 

16. "Colonies" was substituted. 

17. This phrase, "abolishing our most valuable laws," was inserted by 
Franklin. 

18. In place of the bracketed expression, the following was inserted: "by 
declaring us out of his protection and waging war against us.'' The improvement 
is obvious. 

19. After "perfidy'' was inserted: " scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous 
ages, atid totally." In this case, the addition is a doubtful improvement. 

20. Here was inserted: "excited domestic insurrection among us , and has .''^ 
This addition takes the place of the following paragraph. 

21. Omitted as redundant. 

22. In his Autobiography Jefferson says: "The clause reprobating the en- 
slaving the inhabitants of Africa was struck out in complaisance to South 
Carohna and Georgia, who had never attempted to restrain the importation of 
slaves, and who, on the contrary, still wished to continue it. Our Northern 
brethren also, I believe, felt a little tender under these censures : for though 
their people had very few slaves themselves, yet they had been pretty consider- 
able carriers of them to others." 

23. "Only" was inserted by Franklin. 

24. Omitted, and the adjective "free" inserted before "people." Greater 
brevity and force are thus secured. 

25. In place of "a" was substituted "an unwarrantable" \ and in place of 
"these our states" the pronoun "us." 

26. Omitted. 

27. After "we" insert "have." 

28. In place of this phrase was inserted : "and we have conjured them by.'^ 

29. "Would inevitably" was substituted, with decided gain in force. 

30. What is bracketed was omitted; before "acquiesce" was inserted, 
"We must therefore." In reference to this omission Jefferson says: "The 
pusillanimous idea that we had friends in England worth keeping terms with, 
still haunted the minds of many. For this reason, those passages which con- 
veyed censures on the people of England were struck out, lest they should give 
them offence." 



NOTES TO JEFFERSON 43 1 

31. Omitted, and after "separation" was added: ''and hold them as we 
hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends." 

32. Here was inserted, as a decided improvement, the following : "colonies, 
solemnly publish and declare, that these united colonies are, and of right ought 
to be, free and independent states ; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the 
British crowfi, and that all political connection between them atid the state of Great 
Britain is, aiid ought to be, totally dissolved." 

;^:i. Here was inserted, "with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Provi- 
dence." 



432 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



VI 
SELECTION FROM HAMILTON 

THE FEDERALIST 
Number I. — Introduction 

After full experience of the insufficiency of the existing federal 
government,^ you ^ are invited to deliberate upon a new Constitution 
for the United States of America. The subject speaks its own impor- 
tance ; comprehending in its consequences nothing less than the ex- 
istence of the Union, the safety and welfare of the parts of which it is 
composed, the fate of an empire, in many respects, the most interesting 
in the world. ^ It has been frequently remarked, that it seems to have 
been reserved to the people of this country to decide, by their conduct 
and example, the important question, whether societies of men are 
really capable or not, of establishing good government from reflection 
and choice, or whether they are forever destined to depend for their 
political constitutions, on accident and force. If there be ^ any truth 
in the remark, the crisis at which we are arrived may, with propriety, 
be regarded as the period when that decision is to be made ; and a 
wrong election ^ of the part we shall act may, in this view, deserve to 
be considered as the general misfortune of mankind. 

This idea, by adding the inducements of philanthropy to those of 
patriotism, will heighten the solicitude which all considerate and good 
men must feel for the event. ^ Happy will it be if our choice should be 
directed by a judicious estimate of our true interests, uninfluenced by 
considerations foreign to the public good. But this is more ardently 
to be wished for, than seriously to be expected. The plan offered to 
our deliberation affects too many particular interests, innovates upon ^ 
too many local institutions, not to involve in its discussion a variety of 
objects extraneous to its merits, and of views, passions and prejudices 
little favorable to the discovery of truth. ^ 

Among the most formidable ^ of the obstacles ^ which the new Con- 
stitution will have to encounter, may readily be distinguished the 



SELECTION FROM HAMILTON 433 

obvious interest of a certain class of men in every State to resist all 
changes which may hazard a diminution of the power, emolument, and 
consequence ^° of the oflkes they hold under the State establishments 
— and the perverted ambition of another class of men, who will either 
hope to aggrandize themselves by the confusions of their country, or 
will flatter themselves with fairer prospects of elevation from the sub- 
division of the empire into several partial confederacies, than from its 
union under one government. 

It is not, however, my design to dwell upon observations of this 
nature. I am aware it would be disingenuous ^^ to resolve indiscrimi- 
nately the opposition of any set of men into interested or ambitious 
views, merely because their situations might subject them to suspicion. 
Candor will oblige us to admit, that even such men may be actuated 
by upright intentions ; and it cannot be doubted, that much of the 
opposition, which has already shown itself, or that may hereafter make 
its appearance, will spring from sources blameless at least, if not respect- 
able — the honest errors of minds led astray by preconceived jeal- 
ousies and fears. ^2 So numerous indeed and so powerful are the causes 
which serve to give a false bias to the judgment, that we, upon many 
occasions, see wise and good men on the wrong as well as on the right 
side of questions of the first magnitude to society. This circumstance, 
if duly attended to, would always furnish a lesson of moderation to 
those, who are engaged in any controversy, however well persuaded 
of being in the right. And a further reason for caution in this respect,^' 
might be drawn from the reflection, that we are not always sure, that 
those who advocate the truth are actuated by purer principles than 
their antagonists.^'' Ambition, avarice, personal animosity, party 
opposition, and many other motives, not more laudable than these, 
are apt to operate as well upon those who support, as upon those who 
oppose, the right side of a question. Were there not even these induce- 
ments to moderation, nothing could be more ill-judged ^^ than that 
intolerant spirit, which has, at all times, characterized political parties. 
For, in politics as in religion, it is equally absurd ^^ to aim at making 
proselytes by fire and sword. Heresies in either can rarely be cured by 
persecution. 

And yet, just as these sentiments must appear to candid ^^ men, 
we have already suftlcient indications that it wiU happen in this, as in 
all former cases of great national discussion. A torrent of angry and 



434 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

malignant ^^ passions will be let loose. To judge from the conduct 
of the opposite parties,^^ we shall be led to conclude, that they will 
mutually hope to evince the justness of their opinions, and to increase 
the number of their converts, by the loudness of their declamations, 
and by the bitterness of their invectives. ^"^ An en'ightened zeal for 
the energy and efficiency ^^ of government will be stigmatized as the 
offspring of a temper fond of power, and hostile to the principles of 
liberty. An over-scrupulous jealousy "^ of danger to the rights of the 
people, which is more commonly the fault of the head than of the 
heart, will be represented as mere pretence and artifice ^^ — the stale 
bait for popularity at the expense of public good. It will be forgotten, 
on the one hand, that jealousy is the usual concomitant of violent love, 
and that the noble enthusiasm of liberty is too apt to be infected with 
a spirit of narrow and illiberal ^'^ distrust. On the other hand, it will 
be equally forgotten, that the rigor of government is essential to the 
security of liberty; that in the contemplation of a sound and well- 
informed judgment, their ^^ interests can never be separated ; and that 
a dangerous ambition more often lurks behind the specious mask of 
zeal for the rights of the people, than under the forbidding appear- 
ances of zeal for the firmness and efficiency of government. History 
will teach us, that the former has been found a much more certain 
road to the introduction of despotism than the latter, and that of those 
men who have overturned the liberties of republics, the greatest num- 
ber have begun their career by paying an obsequious court to the 
people ; commencing demagogues, and ending tyrants. 

In the course of the preceding observations it has been my aim, 
fellow citizens, to put you upon your guard against all attempts, from 
whatever quarter, to influence your decision in a matter of the utmost 
moment to your welfare, by any impressions, other than those which 
may result from the evidence of truth. You will, no doubt, at the 
same time, have collected from the general scope of them that they 
proceed from a source not unfriendly to the new Constitution. Yes, 
my countrymen, I own to you, that, after having given it an attentive 
consideration, I am clearly of opinion, it is your interest to adopt it. 
I am convinced, that this is the safest course for your liberty, your 
dignity, and your happiness. I affect not reserves which I do not 
feel.2^ I will not amuse you with an appearance of deliberation, when 
I have decided. I frankly acknowledge to you my convictions, and I 



SELECTION FROM HAMILTON 435 

will freely lay before you the reasons on which they are founded. The 
consciousness of good intentions disdains ambiguity. I shall not, how- 
ever, multiply professions on this head. My motives must remain in 
the depository of my own breast ; my arguments will be open to all 
and may be judged by all. They shall at least be offered in a spirit 
which will not disgrace the cause of truth. 

I propose, in a series of papers, to discuss the following interest- 
ing particulars : The utility of the Union to your political prosperity; ^^ 
the insufficiency of the present confederation to preserve that Union ;'^^ 
the necessity of a government at least equally energetic with the one pro- 
posed, to the attainment of this object; 2^ the conformity of the proposed 
Constitution to the true principles of republican government ; ^^ its analogy 
to your own State Constitution; aiui lastly, the additional security, which 
its adoption will afford to the preservation of that species of government, 
to liberty, ajui to property}'^ 

In the progress of this discussion, I shall endeavor to give a sat- 
isfactory answer to all the objections which shall have made their ap- 
pearance, that may seem to have any claim to attention. 

It may, perhaps, be thought superfluous to offer arguments to prove 
the utility of the Union, a point, no doubt, deeply engraved on the 
hearts of the great body of the people in every State, and one which, it 
may be imagined, has no adversaries. But the fact is, that we already 
hear it whispered in the private circles of those who oppose the new 
Constitution, that the thirteen States are of too great extent for any 
general system, and that we must, of necessity, resort to separate con- 
federacies of distinct portions of the whole. This doctrine will, in 
all probabihty, be gradually propagated, till it has votaries enough to 
countenance ts open avowal. For nothing can be more evident, to 
those who are able to take an enlarged view of the subject, than the 
alternative of an adoption of the Constitution or a dismemberment of 
the Union. It may, therefore, be essential to examine particularly 
the advantages of that Union, the certain evils, and the probable dan^ 
gers, to which every State will be exposed from its dissolution. This 
shall accordingly be done. 

PUBLIUS. 



436 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



NOTES TO HAMILTON 

For a statement of the circumstances under which the "Federalist" was 
written, and an estimate of its literary character, consult the sketch of Hamil- 
ton. 

The papers composing the "Federalist" were published in The Indepen- 
dent Journal and other New York papers in 1787 and 1788. As a rule, a new 
number appeared every three days. The first number was written by Hamilton 
in the cabin of a little vessel, as he was gliding down the Hudson. The essays 
were at first signed "A Citizen" ; but the writers soon afterwards, following the 
fashion of the time, adopted the classical name of "Publius." 

Sickness prevented Jay from doing his full share of the work. He wrote 
only five numbers. The burden fell upon Hamilton and Madison, the former 
writing fifty-one and the latter twenty-nine. The authorship of a few of the 
papers has been disputed. As a general thing, each writer sent his article to 
the printer without submitting it to his colleagues. 

The comparative literary excellence of the contributions of Hamilton and 
Madison has been made the subject of discussion. The literary merits of the 
two writers are so nearly equal that it is difficult to decide between them. 
Hamilton has, perhaps, greater force, and Madison greater elegance. To criti- 
cize Madison's style as "stiff, harsh, and obscure" is grossly unjust. 

The "Federalist" has met with the highest commendations abroad as well 
as at home. Guizot said, "that in the application of the elementary principles 
of government to practical administration, it was the greatest work known to 
him." It is described in an early number of the Edinburgh Review as "a work 
little known in Europe, but which exhibits a profundity of research and an 
acuteness of understanding which would have done honor to the most illus- 
trious statesmen of modern times." In his " Commentaries on American Law," 
Chancellor Kent says : " I know not of any work on the principles of free govern- 
ment that is to be compared in instruction and in intrinsic value to this small 
and unpretending volume of the 'Federalist'; not even if we resort to Aristotle, 
Cicero, Macchiavelli, Montesquieu, Milton, Locke, or Burke." Jefferson pro- 
nounced it "the best commentary on the principles of government which was 
ever written." 

Number I 

I. This refers to the government under the Articles of Confederation of 
1777. Consult the general survey of the Revolutionary period. 



NOTES TO HAMILTON 437 

2. At first the essays of the "Federalist" were addressed to the people of 
New York, but afterwards to the people of the United States. 

3. Corresponding to the importance of the subject, the style rises to a high 
degree of dignity. 

4- Note the significance of the subjunctive. What would be the difference 
in meaning if the indicative were used? 

5. Give a synonym for ''election" Pass over no word the exact meaning 
of which is not understood. 

6. What is the meaning of "ew»/"? Discriminate between evetit, occur- 
rence, and incident, and note the precision of Hamilton's diction. 

7. Explain ''innovates upon.'' 

8. Note the precision secured in this sentence, and throughout the "Feder- 
alist," by the use of the Latin element of our language. 

9. Consult the etymology of these words, and point out their force. Why 
is "obstacles'' better here than impediments, difficulties, or hindrances? 

10. What is the difference between "emolument" and "consequence"? 
Note Hamilton's comprehensive and discriminating thought. 

11. The exact meaning of "disingenuous"? 

12. May "the honest errors of minds led astray by preconceived jealousies 
and fears " be " blameless" without being "respectable" ? What is the meaning 
of "respectable" in this case? 

13. In what "respect"? 

14. Why is "antagonists" here better than opponents? Discriminate be- 
tween adversary, enemy, opponent, and antagonist. 

15. SjTionym for " ill-judged ? " 

16. ^hy h "absurd" better thsLn irrational or foolish inthis csise? What 
is the force of preposterous ? 

17. Why is "candid" exactly the right word? 

18. What is the difference between "angry" and "malignant" passions? 

19. Federalists and Anti-Federalists. 

20. Note the manner in which the parallelism of structure has been pre- 
served in this sentence. It is evident that Hamilton had been a careful student 
of rhetoric. 

21. What is the difference between "energy" and "efficiency"? 

22. Synonym of "jealousy" in this case? 

23. Discriminate between "pretence" and "artifice." Note Hamilton's 
clear thought and careful diction. 

24. What is the meaning of "illiberal" here ? 

25. To what does "their" refer? 

26. Paraphrase this sentence so as to bring out the meaning more 
clearly. 

27. Discussed in numbers 2-14. 



438 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

28. Numbers 15-22. 

29. Numbers 23-35. 

30. Numbers 36-84. 

31. The last two subjects were treated of in the last number in a very brief 
way, because they had been considered fully, though incidentally, in the progress 
of the work. 



SELECTIONS FROM IRVING 439 



VII 

SELECTIONS FROM IRVING 

RIP VAN WINKLE 

A Posthumous Writing of Diedrich Knickerbocker 

By Woden, God of Saxons, 

From whence comes Wensday, that is Wodensday, 

Truth is a thing that ever I will keep 

Unto thylke day in which I creep into 

My sepulchre. 

Cartwright.i 

Whoever has made a voyage up the Hudson, must remember the 
Kaatskill ^ mountains. They are a dismembered branch of the great 
Appalachian family, and are s en away to the west of the river, swell- 
ing up to a noble height, and lording it over the surrounding country. 
Every change of reason, every change of weather, indeed every hour 
of the day, produces some change in the magical hues and shapes of 
these mountains ; and they are regarded by all the good wives, far and 
near, as perfect barometers. When the weather is fair and settled, 
they are clothed in blue and purple, and print their bold outHnes on 
the clear evening sky ; but sometimes, when the rest of the landscape 
is cloudless, they will gather a hood of gray vapors about their sum- 
mits, which, in the last rays of the setting sun, will glow and light up 
like a crown of glory. 

At the foot of these fairy mountains, the voyager may have descried 
the light smoke curling up from a village, whose shingle roofs gleam 
among the trees, just where the blue tints of the upland melt away into 
the fresh green of the nearer landscape. It is a little village of great 
antiquity, having been founded by some of the Dutch colonists, in the 
early times of the province, just about the beginning of the government 
of the good Peter Stuyvesant ^ (may he rest in peace !) ; and there were 



440 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

some of the houses of the original settlers standing within a few years, 
built of small yellow bricks brought from Holland, having latticed win- 
dows and gable fronts, surmounted with weathercocks. 

In that same village, and in one of these very houses (which, to tell 
the precise truth, was sadly time-worn and weather-beaten), there lived 
many years since, while the country was yet a province of Great Britain, 
a simple, good-natured fellow, of the name of Rip Van Winkle. He 
was a descendant of the Van Winkles ^ who figured so gallantly in the 
chivalrous days of Peter Stuyvesant, and accompanied him to the siege 
of Fort Christina. He inherited, however, but little of the martial 
character of his ancestors. I have observed that he was a simple, good- 
natured man ; he was moreover a kind neighbor, and an obedient, hen- 
pecked husband. Indeed, to the latter circumstance might be owing 
that meekness of spirit which gained him such universal popularity; 
for those men are most apt to be obsequious and conciliating abroad, 
who are under the discipline of shrews at home. Their tempers, doubt- 
less, are rendered pliant and malleable in the fiery furnace of domestic 
tribulation, and a curtain lecture is worth all the sermons in the world 
for teaching the virtues of patience and long-suffering. A termagant 
wife may, therefore, in some respects, be considered a tolerable blessing; 
and if so, Rip Van Winkle was thrice blessed. 

Certain it is, that he was a great favorite among all the good wives 
of the v.'Uage, who, as usual with the amiable sex, took his part in all 
family squabbles, and never failed, whenever they talked those matters 
over in their evening gossipings, to lay all the blame on Dame Van 
Winkle. The children of the village, too, would shout with joy when- 
ever he approached. He assisted at their sports, made their play- 
things, taught them to fly kites and shoot marbles, and told them long 
stories of ghosts, witches, and Indians. Whenever he went dodging 
about the village, he was surrounded by a troop of them hanging on 
his skirts, clambering on his back, and playing a thousand tricks on 
him with impunity; and not a dog would bark at him throughout the 
neighborhood. 

The great error in Rip's composition was an insuperable aversion 
to all kinds of profitable labor. It could not be from the want of assi- 
duity or perseverance ; for he would sit on a wet rock, with a rod as 
long and heavy as a Tartar's lance, and fish all day without a murmur, 
even though he should not be encouraged by a single nibble. He would 



SELECTIONS FROM IRVING 441 

carry a fowling-piece on his shoulder for hours together, trudging through 
woods and swamps, and up hill and down dale, to shoot a few squirrels 
or wild pigeons. He would never refuse to assist a neighbor, even in 
the roughest toil, and was a foremost man at all country frolics for 
husking Indian corn or building stone fences. The women of the vil- 
lage, too, used to employ him to run their errands, and to do such little 
odd jobs as their less obliging husbands would not do for them ; — in a 
word, Rip was ready to attend to anybody's business but his own ; but 
as to doing family duty, and keeping his farm in order, he found it 
impossible. 

In fact, he declared it was of no use to work on his farm; it was 
the most pestilent little piece of ground in the whole country ; every- 
thing about it went wrong, and would go wrong in spite of him. His 
fences were continually falling to pieces ; his cow would either go 
astray, or get among the cabbages ; weeds were sure to grow quicker in 
his fields than anywhere else ; the rain always made a point of setting 
in just as he had some out-door work to do; so that, though his patri- 
monial estate had dwindled away under his management, acre by acre, 
until there was Httle more left than a mere patch of Indian corn and 
potatoes, yet it was the worst-conditioned farm in the neighborhood. 

His children, too, were as ragged and wild as if they belonged to 
nobody. His son Rip, an urchin begotten in his own likeness, prom- 
ised to inherit the habits, with the old clothes of his father. He was 
generally seen trooping like a colt at his mother's heels, equipped in a 
pair of his father's cast-off galligaskins, which he had much ado to 
hold up with one hand, as a fine lady does her train in bad weather. 

Rip Van Winkle, however, was one of those happy mortals, of fool- 
ish, well-oiled dispositions, who take the world easy, eat white bread 
or brown, whichever can be got with least thought or trouble, and 
would rather starve on a penny than work for a pound. If left to 
himself, he would have whistled life away in perfect contentment ; 
but his wife kept continually dinning in his ears about his idleness, his 
carelessness, and the ruin he was bringing on his family. 

Morning, noon, and night, her tongue was incessantly going, and 
everything he said or did was sure to produce a torrent of household 
eloquence. Rip had but one way of replying to all lectures of the kind, 
and that, by frequent use, had grown into a habit. He shrugged his 
shoulders, shook his head, cast up his eyes, but said nothing. This, 



442 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

however, always provoked a fresh volley from his wife, so that he was 
fain to draw off his forces, and take to the outside of the house — the 
only side which, in truth, belongs to a henpecked husband. 

Rip's sole domestic adherent was his dog Wolf, who was as much 
henpecked as his master ; for Dame Van Winkle regarded them as 
companions in idleness, and even looked upon Wolf with an evil eye 
as the cause of his master's going so often astray. True it is, in all 
points of spirit befitting an honorable dog, he was as courageous an 
animal as ever scoured the woods — but what courage can withstand 
the ever-during and all-besetting terrors of a woman's tongue? The 
moment Wolf entered the house, his crest fell, his tail drooped to the 
ground, or curled between his legs, he sneaked about with a gallows 
air, casting many a sidelong glance at Dame Van Winkle, and at the 
least flourish of a broomstick or ladle, he would fly to the door with 
yelping precipitation. 

Times grew worse and worse with Rip Van Winkle, as years of mat- 
rimony rolled on : a tart temper never mellows with age, and a sharp 
tongue is the only edge tool that grows keener with constant use. For 
a long while he used to console himself, when driven from home, by 
frequenting a kind of perpetual club of the sages, philosophers, and 
other idle personages of the village, which held its sessions on a bench 
before a small inn, designated by a rubicond portrait of his majesty 
George the Third. Here they used to sit in the shade, of a long lazy 
summer's day, talking listlessly over village gossip, or telling endless 
sleepy stories about nothing. But it would have been worthy any states- 
man's money to have heard the profound discussions which sometimes 
took place, when by chance an old newspaper fell into their hands, 
from some passing traveller. How solemnly they would listen to the 
contents, as drawled out by Derrick Van Bummel, the schoolmaster, 
a dapper, learned little man, who was not to be daunted by the most 
gigantic word in the dictionary ; and how sagely they would deliberate 
upon public events some months after they had taken place. 

The opinions of this junto were completely controlled by Nicholas 
Vedder, a patriarch of the village, and landlord of the inn, at the door 
of which he took his seat from morning till night, just moving suffi- 
ciently to avoid the sun, and keep in the shade of a large tree ; so that 
the neighbors could tell the hour by his movements as accurately as 
by a sun-dial. It is true, he was rarely heard to speak, but smoked 



SELECTIONS FROM IRVING 443 

his pipe incessantly. His adherents, however (for every great man 
has his adherents), perfectly understood him, and knew how to gather 
his opinions. When anything that was read or related displeased 
him, he was observed to smoke his pipe vehemently, and to send forth 
short, frequent, and angry puffs; but when pleased, he would inhale 
the smoke slowly and tranquilly, and emit it in light and placid clouds, 
and sometimes taking the pipe from his mouth, and letting the fra- 
grant vapor curl about his nose, would gravely nod his head in token 
of perfect approbation. 

From even this stronghold the unlucky Rip was at length routed 
by his termagant wife, who would suddenly break in upon the tran- 
quillity of the assemblage, and call the members all to naught ; nor 
was that august personage, Nicholas \'eddcr himself, sacred from the 
daring tongue of this terrible virago, who charged him outright with 
encouraging her husband in habits of idleness. 

Poor Rip was at last reduced almost to despair, and his only alter- 
native to escape from the labor of the farm and the clamor of his wife, 
was to take gun in hand, and stroll away into the woods. Here he 
would sometimes seat himself at the foot of a tree, and share the con- 
tents of his wallet with Wolf, with whom he sympathized as a fellow- 
sufferer in persecution. "Poor Wolf," he would say, "thy mistress 
leads thee a dog's life of it ; but never mind, my lad, whilst I live thou 
shalt never want a friend to stand by thee!" Wolf would wag his 
tail, look wistfully in his master's face, and if dogs can feel pity, I verily 
believe he reciprocated the sentiment with all his heart. 

In a long ramble of the kind, on a fine autumnal day. Rip had un- 
consciously scrambled to one of the highest parts of the Kaatskill 
mountains. He was after his favorite sport of squirrel-shooting, and 
the still solitudes had echoed and re-echoed with the reports of his 
gun. Panting and fatigued, he threw himself, late in the afternoon, 
on a green knoll covered with mountain herbage, that crowned the 
brow of a precipice. From an opening between the trees, he could 
overlook all the lower country for many a mile of rich woodland. He 
saw at a distance the lordly Hudson, far, far below him, moving on its 
silent but majestic course, with the reflection of a purple cloud, or the 
sail of a lagging bark, here and there sleeping on its glassy bosom, and 
at last losing itself in the blue highlands. 

On the other side he looked down into a deep mountain glen, wild, 



444 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

lonely, and shagged, the bottom filled with fragments from the im- 
pending cliffs, and scarcely lighted by the reflected rays of the setting 
sun. For some time Rip lay musing on this scene ; evening was grad- 
ually advancing ; the mountains began to throw their long blue shadows 
over the valleys ; he saw that it would be dark long before he could 
reach the village; and he heaved a heavy sigh when he thought of 
encountering the terrors of Dame Van Winkle. 

As he was about to descend he heard a voice from a distance hal- 
looing, "Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!" He looked around, 
but could see nothing but a crow winging its solitary flight across the 
mountain. He thought his fancy must have deceived him, and turned 
again to descend, when he heard the same cry ring through the still 
evening air, ''Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!" — at the same 
time Wolf bristled up his back, and giving a low growl, skulked to his 
master's side, looking fearfully down into the glen. Rip now felt a 
vague apprehension stealing over him : he looked anxiously in the same 
direction, and perceived a strange figure slowly toiling up the rocks, 
and bending under the weight of something he carried on his back. 
He was surprised to see any human being in this lonely and unfrequented 
place, but supposing it to be some one of the neighborhood in need 
of his assistance, he hastened down to yield it. 

On nearer approach, he was still more surprised at the singularity 
of the stranger's appearance. He was a short square-built old fellow, 
with thick bushy hair, and a grizzled beard. His dress was of the 
antique Dutch fashion — a cloth jerkin strapped round the waist — 
several pair of breeches, the outer one of ample volume, decorated 
with rows of buttons down the sides, and bunches at the knees. He 
bore on his shoulders a stout keg, that seemed full of liquor, and made 
signs for Rip to approach and assist him with the load. Though rather 
shy and distrustful of this new acquaintance. Rip complied with his 
usual alacrity, and mutually relieving each other, they clambered 
up a narrow gully, apparently the dry bed of a mountain torrent. As 
they ascended, Rip every now and then heard long rolling peals, like 
distant thunder, that seemed to issue out of a deep ravine or rather 
cleft between lofty rocks, toward which their rugged path conducted. 
He paused for an instant, but supposing it to be the muttering of one 
of those transient thunder-showers which often take place in mountain 
heights, he proceeded. Passing through the ravine, they came to a 



SELECTIONS FROM IRVING 445 

hollow, like a small amphitheatre, surrounded by perpendicular preci- 
pices, over the brinks of which impending trees shot their branches, 
so that you only caught glimpses of the azure sky, and the bright even- 
ing cloud. During the whole time, Rip and his companion had la- 
bored on in silence; for though the former marvelled greatly what 
could be the object of carrying a keg of liquor up this wild mountain, 
yet there was something strange and incomprehensible about the un- 
known, that inspired awe, and checked familiarity. 

On entering the amphitheatre, new objects of w'onder presented 
themselves. On a level spot in the centre was a company of odd-look- 
ing personages playing at nine-pins. They were dressed in a quaint 
outlandish fashion : some wore short doublets, others jerkins, with 
long knives in their belts, and most of them had enormous breeches, 
of similar style with that of the guide's. Their visages, too, were pecul- 
iar; one had a large head, broad face, and small piggish eyes; the 
face of another seemed to consist entirely of nose, and was surmounted 
by a white sugar-loaf hat, set off with a little red cock's tail. They 
all had beards, of various shapes and colors. There was one who 
seemed to be the commander. He was a stout old gentleman, with 
a weather-beaten countenance; he wore a laced doublet, broad belt 
and hanger, high-crowned hat and feather, red stockings, and high- 
heeled shoes, with roses in them. The whole group reminded Rip of 
the figures in an old Flemish painting, in the parlor of Dominie Van 
Schaick, the village parson, and which had been brought over from 
Holland at the time of the settlement. 

What seemed particularly odd to Rip, was, that though these folks 
were evidently amusing themselves, yet they maintained the gravest 
faces, the most mysterious silence, and were, withal, the most melan- 
choly party of pleasure he had ever witnessed. Nothing interrupted 
the stillness of the scene but the noise of the balls, which, whenever 
they WTre rolled, echoed along the mountains like rumbling peals of 
thunder. 

As Rip and his companion approached them, they suddenly de- 
sisted from their play, and stared at him with such a fixed statue-like 
gaze, and such strange, uncouth, lack-lustre countenances, that his 
heart turned within him, and his knees smote together. His compan- 
ion now emptied the contents of the keg into large flagons, and made 
signs to wait upon the company. He obeyed with fear and trem- 



446 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

bling ; they quaffed the liquor in profound silence, and then returned 
to their game. 

By degrees, Rip's awe and apprehension subsided. He even ven- 
tured, when no eye was fixed upon him, to taste the beverage, which 
he found had much of the flavor of excellent Hollands. He was natu- 
rally a thirsty soul, and was soon tempted to repeat the draught. One 
taste provoked another, and he reiterated his visits to the flagon so 
often that at length his senses were overpowered, his eyes swam in his 
head, his head gradually declined, and he fell into a deep sleep. 

On waking, he found himself on the green knoll from whence he 
had first seen the old man of the glen. He rubbed his eyes — it was a 
bright sunny morning. The birds were hopping and twittering among 
the bushes, and the eagle was wheeling aloft, and breasting the pure 
mountain breeze. "Surely," thought Rip, "I have not slept here all 
night." He recalled the occurrences before he fell asleep. The strange 
man with the keg of liquor — the mountain ravine — the wild retreat 
among the rocks — the wo-begone party at nine-pins — the flagon — 
"Oh! that wicked flagon!" thought Rip — "what excuse shall I make 
to Dame Van Winkle?" 

He looked around for his gun ; but in place of the clean well-oiled 
fowling-piece, he found an old firelock lying by him, the barrel en- 
crusted with rust, the lock falling off, and the stock worm-eaten. He 
now suspected that the grave roisterers of the mountain had put a trick 
upon him, and having dosed him with liquor, had robbed him of his 
gun. Wolf, too, had disappeared, but he might have strayed away 
after a squirrel or partridge. He whistled after him, and shouted his 
name, but all in vain ; the echoes repeated his whistle and shout, but 
no dog was to be seen. 

He determined to revisit the scene of the last evening's gambol, 
and if he met with any of the party, to demand his dog and gun. As 
he rose to walk, he found himself stiff in the joints, and wanting in his 
usual activity. "These mountain beds do not agree with me," thought 
Rip, "and if this frolic should lay me up with a fit of the rheumatism, 
I shall have a blessed time with Dame Van Winkle." With some dif- 
ficulty he got down into the glen ; he found the gully up which he and 
his companion had ascended the preceding evening; but to his aston- 
ishment a mountain stream was now foaming down it, leaping from 
rock to rock, and filling the glen with babbling murmurs. He, how- 



SELECTIONS FROM IRVING 447 

ever, made shift to scramble up its sides, working his toilsome way- 
through thickets of birch, sassafras, and witch-hazel, and sometimes 
tripped up or entangled by the wild grape vines that twisted their coils 
and tendrils from tree to tree, and spread a kind of network in his path. 

At length he reached to where the ravine had opened through the 
cliffs to the amphitheatre; but no traces of such opening remained. 
The rocks presented a high impenetrable wall, over which the torrent 
came tumbling in a sheet of feathery foam, and fell into a broad deep 
basin, black from the shadows of the surrounding forest. Here, then, 
poor Rip was brought to a stand. He again called and whistled after 
his dog ; he was only answered by the cawing of a flock of idle crows, 
sporting high in air about a dry tree that overhung a sunny precipice; 
and who, secure in their elevation, seemed to look down and scofT at 
the poor man's perplexities. What was to be done? The morning 
was passing away, and Rip felt famished for want of his breakfast. 
He grieved to give up his dog and gun ; he dreaded to meet his wife ; 
but it would not do to starve among the mountains. He shook his 
head, shouldered the rusty firelock, and with a heart full of trouble and 
anxiety, turned his steps homeward. 

As he approached the village, he met a number of people, but none 
whom he knew, which somewhat surprised him, for he had thought 
himself acquainted with every one in the country round. Their dress, 
too, was of a different fashion from that to which he was accustomed. 
They all stared at him with equal marks of surprise, and whenever they 
cast eyes upon him, invariably stroked their chins. The constant 
recurrence of this gesture induced Rip, involuntarily, to do the same, 
when, to his astonishment, he found his beard had grown a foot long! 

He had now entered the skirts of the village. A troop of strange 
children ran at his heels, hooting after him, and pointing at his gray 
beard. The dogs, too, not one of which he recognized for an old ac- 
quaintance, barked at him as he passed. The very village was altered; 
it was larger and more populous. There were rows of houses which 
he had never seen before, and those which had been his familiar haunts 
had disappeared. Strange names were over the doors — strange 
faces at the windows — everything was strange. His mind now mis- 
gave him ; he began to doubt whether both he and the world around 
him were not bewitched. Surely this was his native village, which 
he had left but a day before. There stood the Kaatskill mountains 



448 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

— there ran the silver Hudson at a distance — there was every hill 
and dale precisely as it had always been — Rip was sorely perplexed. 

— ''That flagon last night," thought he, ''has addled my poor head 
sadly!" 

It was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own house, 
which he approached with silent awe, expecting every moment to hear 
the shrill voice of Dame Van Winkle. He found the house gone to 
decay — the roof fallen in, the windows shattered, and the doors off 
the hinges. A half-starved dog, that looked like Wolf, was skulking 
about it. Rip called him by name, but the cur snarled, showed his 
teeth, and passed on. This was an unkind cut indeed. — "My very 
dog," sighed poor Rip, "has forgotten me!" 

He entered the house, which, to tell the truth. Dame Van Winkle 
had always kept in neat order. It was empty, forlorn, and apparently 
abandoned. This desolateness overcame all his connubial fears — he 
called loudly for his wife and children — the lonely chambers rang for 
a moment with his voice, and then all again was silence. 

He now hurried forth, and hastened to his old resort, the village inn — 
but it too was gone. A large rickety wooden building stood in its place, 
with great gaping windows, some of them broken, and mended with old 
hats and petticoats, and over the door was painted, "The Union Hotel, 
by Jonathan DooHttle." Instead of the great tree that used to shelter 
the quiet little Dutch inn of yore, there now was reared a tall naked pole, 
with something on the top that looked like a red nightcap, and from it 
was fluttering a flag, on which was a singular assemblage of stars and 
stripes — all this was strange and incomprehensible. He recognized 
on the sign, however, the ruby face of King George, under which he had 
smoked so many a peaceful pipe, but even this was singularly metamor- 
phosed. The red coat was changed for one of blue and buff, a sword 
was held in the hand instead of a sceptre, the head was decorated with a 
cocked hat, and underneath was painted in large characters, General 
Washington. 

There was, as usual, a crowd of folk about the door, but none that 
Rip recollected. The very character of the people seemed changed. 
' There was a busy, bustling, disputatious tone about it, instead of the 
accustomed phlegm and drowsy tranquillity. He looked in vain for the 
sage Nicholas Vedder, with his broad face, double chin, and fair long pipe, 
uttering clouds of tobacco smoke, instead of idle speeches ; or Van Bum- 



SELECTIONS FROM IRVING 



449 



mel, the schoolmaster, doling forth the contents of an ancient newspaper. 
In place of these, a lean bilious-looking fellow, with his pockets full of 
handbills, was haranguing vehemently about rights of citizens — elec- 
tion — members of Congress — hberty — Bunker's hill — heroes of 
seventy-six — and other words that were a perfect Babylonish jargon to 
the bewildered Van Winkle. 

The appearance of Rip, with his long grizzled beard, his rusty fowling- 
piece, his uncouth dress, and the army of women and children that had 
gathered at his heels, soon attracted the attention of the tavern pohti- 
cians. They crowded round him, eying him from head to foot, with great 
curiosity. The orator bustled up to him, and drawing him partly aside, 
inquired, "on which side he voted?" Rip stared in vacant stupidity. 
Another short but busy httle fellow pulled him by the arm, and rising on 
tiptoe, inquired in his ear, " whether he was Federal or Democrat." Rip 
was equally at a loss to comprehend the question ; when a knowing, self- 
important old gentleman, in a sharp cocked hat, made his way through 
the crowd, putting ihem to the right and left with his elbows as he passed, 
and planting himself before Van Winkle, with one arm a-kimbo, the 
other resting on his cane, his keen eyes and sharp hat penetrating, as 
it were, into his very soul, demanded in an austere tone, "what brought 
him to the election with a gun on his shoulder, and a mob at his heels, 
and whether he meant to breed a riot in the village?" 

"Alas! gentlemen," cried Rip, somewhat dismayed, "I am a poor, 
quiet man, a native of the place, and a loyal subject of the King, God 
bless him!" 

Here a general shout burst from the bystanders — "A tory ! a tory! 
a spy ! a refugee ! hustle him ! away with him ! " 

It was with great difficulty that the self-important man in the 
cocked hat restored order ; and having assumed a tenfold austerity of 
brow, demanded again of the unknown culprit, what he came there 
for, and whom he was seeking. The poor man humbly assured him 
that he meant no harm, but merely came there in search of some of 
his neighbors, who used to keep about the tavern. 
"Well — who are they? — name them." 

Rip bethought himself a moment, and inquired, "Where's Nicho- 
las Vedder?" 

There was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied, in 
a thin, piping voice, "Nicholas Vedder? why, he is dead and gone 



450 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

these eighteen years ! There was a wooden tombstone in the church- 
yard that used to tell all about him, but that's rotten and gone too." 

'^ Where's Brom Butcher?" 

''Oh, he went off to the army in the beginning of the war; some 
say he was killed at the storming of Stony Point ^ — others say he was 
drowned in a squall, at the foot of Antony's Nose.^ I don't know — 
he never came back again." 

"Where's Van Bummel, the schoolmaster?" 

''He went off to the wars, too; was a great mihtia general, and is 
now in Congress." 

Rip's heart died away, at hearing of these sad changes in his home 
and friends, and finding himself thus alone in the world. Every an- 
swer puzzled him, too, by treating of such enormous lapses of time, 
and of matters which he could not understand : war — Congress — 
Stony Point ! — he had no courage to ask after any more friends, but 
cried out in despair, "Does nobody here know Rip Van Winkle?" 

"Oh, Rip Van Winkle !" exclaimed two or three. "Oh, to be sure ! 
that's Rip Van Winkle yonder, leaning against the tree." 

Rip looked, and beheld a precise counterpart of himself as he went 
up the mountain; apparently as lazy and certainly as ragged. The 
poor fellow was now completely confounded. He doubted his own 
identity, and whether he was himself or another man. In the midst 
of his bewilderment, the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, 
and what was his name? 

"God knows," exclaimed he, at his wit's end; "I'm not myself — 
I'm somebody else — that's me yonder — no — that's somebody else, 
got into my shoes — I was myself last night, but I fell asleep on the 
mountain, and they've changed my gun, and every thing's changed, 
and I'm changed, and I can't tell what's my name, or who I am ! " 

The bystanders began now to look at each other, nod, wink sig- 
nificantly, and tap their fingers against their foreheads. There was a 
whisper, also, about securing the gun, and keeping the old fellow from 
doing mischief; at the very suggestion of which, the self-important 
man with the cocked hat retired with some precipitation. At this crit- 
ical moment a fresh comely woman passed through the throng to get a 
peep at the gray-bearded man. She had a chubby child in her arms, 
which, frightened at his looks, began to cry. "Hush, Rip," cried she, 
"hush, you little fool; the old man won't hurt you." The name of 



SELECTIONS FROM IRVING 451 

the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all awakened a 
train of recollections in his mind. 

"What is your name, my good woman?" asked he. 

"Judith Gardcnier." 

"And your father's name?" 

"Ah, poor man, his name was Rip Van Winkle; it's twenty years 
since he went away from home with his gun, and never has been heard 
of since — his dog came home without him ; but whether he shot him- 
self, or was carried away by the Indians, nobody can tell. I was then 
but a little girl." 

Rip had but one question more to ask ; but he put it with a falter- 
ing voice : — 

"Where's your mother?" 

Oh, she too had died but a short time since : she broke a blood- 
vessel in a fit of passion at a New England peddler. 

There was a drop of comfort, at least, in this intelligence. The 
honest man could contain himself no longer. He caught his daughter 
and her child in his arms. "I am your father!" cried he — "Young 
Rip Van Winkle once — old Rip Van Winkle now ! — Does nobody 
know poor Rip Van Winkle!" 

All stood amazed, until an old woman, tottering out from among 
the crowd, put her hand to her brow, and peering under it in his face 
for a moment, exclaimed, "Sure enough! it is Rip Van Winkle — it 
is himself. Welcome home again, old neighbor — Why, where have 
you been these twenty long years?" 

Rip's story was soon told, for the whole twenty years had been to 
him but as one night. The neighbors stared when they heard it ; some 
were seen to wink at each other, and put their tongues in their cheeks ; 
and the self-important man in the cocked hat, who, when the alarm 
was over, had returned to the field, screwed down the corners of his 
mouth, and shook his head — upon which there was a general shaking 
of the head throughout the assemblage. 

It was determined, however, to take the opinion of old Peter Van- 
derdonk, who was seen slowly advancing up the road. He was a de- 
scendant of the historian of that name,'^ who wrote one of the earliest 
accounts of the province. Peter was the most ancient inhabitant of 
the village, and well versed in all the wonderful events and traditions 
of the neighborhood. He recollected Rip at once, and corroborated 



452 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

his story in the most satisfactory manner. He assured the company 
that it was a fact, handed down from his ancestor the historian, that 
the Kaatskill mountains had always been haunted by strange beings. 
That it was afhrmed that the Great Hendrick Hudson, the first discov- 
erer of the river and country, kept a kind of vigil there every twenty 
years, with his crew of the Half-moon, being permitted in this way to 
revisit the scenes of his enterprise, and keep a guardian eye upon the 
river and the great city called by his name. That his father had once 
seen them in their old Dutch dresses playing at nine-pins in a hollow 
of the mountain ; and that he himself had heard, one summer after- 
noon, the sound of their balls, like distant peals of thunder. 

To make a long story short, the company broke up, and returned 
1 the more important concerns of the election. Rip's daughter took 
l.hn home to live with her; she had a snug, well-furnished house, and 
a stout cheery farmer for a husband, whom Rip recollected for one of 
the urchins that used to climb upon his back. As to Rip's son and 
heir, who was the ditto of himself, seen leaning against the tree, he 
was employed to work on the farm ; but evinced a hereditary disposi- 
tion to attend to anything else but his business. 

Rip now resumed his old walks and habits ; he soon found many 
of his former cronies, though all rather the worse for the wear and 
tear of time ; and preferred making friends among the rising genera- 
tion, with whom he soon grew into great favor. 

Having nothing to do at home, and being arrived at that happy 
age when a man can do nothing with impunity, he took his place once . 
more on the bench, at the inn door, and was reverenced as one of the 
patriarchs of the village, and a chronicle of the old times ''before the 
war." It was some time before he could get into the regular track of 
gossip, or could be made to comprehend the strange events that had 
taken place during his torpor. How that there had been a revolution- 
ary war — that the country had thrown off the yoke of old England 
— and that, instead of being a subject of his majesty George the Third, 
he was now a free citizen of the United States. Rip, in fact, was no 
politician ; the changes of states and empires made but little impres- 
sion on him ; but there was one species of despotism under which he 
had long groaned, and that was — petticoat government. Happily, 
that was at an end ; he had got his neck out of the yoke of matrimony, 
and could go in and out whenever he pleased, without dreading the tyranny 



SELECTIONS FROM IRVING 



453 



of Dame Win Winkle. Whenever her name was mentioned, however, 
he shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and cast up his eyes; which 
might pass either for an expression of resignation to his fate, or joy at his 
deliverance. 

He used to tell his stor>' to every stranger that arrived at Mr. Doo- 
little's hotel. He was observed, at first, to var>^ on some points every 
time he told it, which was doubtless owing to his having so recently 
awaked. It at last settled down precisely to the tale I have related, 
and not a man, woman, or child in the neighborhood but knew it by 
heart. Some always pretended to doubt the reality of it, and insisted 
that Rip had been out of his head, and that this was one point on which 
he always remained flighty. The old Dutch inhabitants, however, 
almost universally gave it full credit. Even to this day, they never 
hear a thunder-storm of a summer afternoon about the Kaatskill, but 
they say Hendrick Hudson and his crew are at their game of nine- 
pins; and it is a common wish of all henpecked husbands in the neigh- 
borhood, when life hangs heavy on their hands, that they might have a 
quiet draught out of Rip Van Winkle's flagon.'* 



454 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



THE BROKEN HEART 

I never heard 
Of any true affection, but 'twas nipt 
With care, that, like the caterpillar, eats 
The leaves of the spring's sweetest book, the rose. 

MlDDLETON.^ 

It is a common practice with those who have outlived the suscepti- 
bility of early feeling, or have been brought up in the gay heartless- 
ness of dissipated life, to laugh at all love stories, and to treat the 
tales of romantic passion as mere fictions of novelists and poets. My 
observations on human nature have induced me to think otherwise.^ 
They have convinced me that however the surface of the character 
may be chilled and frozen by the cares of the world, or cultivated into 
mere smiles by the arts of society, still there are dormant tires lurking 
in the depths of the coldest bosom, which, when once enkindled, be- 
come impetuous, and are sometimes desolating in their effects. In- 
deed, I am a true believer in the blind deity,^ and go to the full extent 
of his doctrines. Shall I confess it ? — I believe in broken hearts, and 
the possibility of dying of disappointed love! I do not, however, 
consider it a malady often fatal to my own sex ; but I firmly believe 
that it withers down many a lovely woman into an early grave. 

Man is the creature of interest and ambition. His nature leads 
him forth into the struggle and bustle of the world. Love is but the 
embellishment of his early life, or a song piped in the intervals of the 
acts. He seeks for fame, for fortune, for space in the world's thought, 
and dominion over his fellow-men. But a woman's whole life is a 
history of the affections. The heart is her world ; it is there her 
ambition strives for empire — it is there her avarice seeks for hidden 
treasures. She sends forth her sympathies on adventure ; she em- 
barks her whole soul in the traffic of affection ; and if shipwrecked, her 
case is hopeless — for it is a bankruptcy of the heart. 

To a man, the disappointment of love may occasion some bitter 
pangs : it wounds some feelings of tenderness — it blasts some pros- 



SELECTIONS FROM IRVING 455 

pects of felicity ; but he is an active being ; he may dissipate his thoughts 
in the whirl of varied occupation, or may plunge into the tide of pleas- 
ure ; or, if the scene of disappointment be too full of painful associa- 
tions, he can shift his abode at will, and taking, as it were, the wings 
of the morning, can "f^y to the uttermost parts of the earth, and be at 
rest." * 

But woman's is comparatively a fixed, a secluded, and a meditative 
life. She is more the companion of her own thoughts and feelings; 
and if they are turned to ministers of sorrow, where shall she look for 
consolation? Her lot is to be wooed and won; and if unhappy in her 
love, her heart is like some fortress that had been captured, and sacked, 
and abandoned, and left desolate.^ 

How many Ijright eyes grow dim — how many soft cheeks grow 
pale — how many lovely forms fade away into the tomb, and none can 
tell the cause that blighted their loveHness ! As the dove will clasp 
its wings to its side, and cover and conceal the arrow that is preying 
on its vitals — so is it the nature of woman, to hide from the world 
the pangs of wounded affection. The love of a delicate female is 
always shy and silent. Even when fortunate, she scarcely breathes 
it to herself; but when otherwise, she buries it in the recesses of her 
bosom, and there lets it cower and brood among the ruins of her peace. 
With her, the desire of her heart has failed — the great charm of exis- 
tence is at an end. She neglects all the cheerful exercises which gladden 
the spirit, quicken the pulse, and send the tide of life in healthful cur- 
rents through the veins. Her rest is broken — the sweet refreshment of 
sleep is poisoned by melancholy dreams — "dry sorrow drinks her 
blood," until her enfeebled frame sinks under the slightest external 
injury. Look for her, after a little while, and you find friendship 
weeping over her untimely grave, and wondering that one, who but 
lately glowed with all the r-idiance of health and beauty, should so 
speedily be brought down to "darkness and the worm." You will be 
told of some wintry chill, some casual indisposition, that laid her low 
— but no one knows the mental malady that previously sapped her 
strength, and made her so easy a prey to the spoiler. 

She is like some tender tree, the pride and beauty of the grove ; 
graceful in its form, bright in its foliage, but with the worm preying at 
its heart. We find it suddenly withering, when it should be most 
fresh and luxuriant. We see it drooping its branches to the earth, 



456 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

and shedding leaf by leaf ; until, wasted and perished away, it falls 
even in the stillness of the forest ; and as we muse over the beautiful 
ruin, we strive in vain to recollect the blast or thunderbolt that could 
have smitten it with decay. 

I have seen many instances of women running to waste and self- 
neglect, and disappearing gradually from the earth, almost as if they 
had been exhaled to heaven ; and have repeatedly fancied that I could 
trace their deaths through the various declensions of consumption, 
cold, debihty, languor, melancholy, until I reached the first symptom of 
disappointed love. But an instance of the kind was lately told to me ; 
the circumstances are well known in the country where they happened, 
and I shall but give them in the manner in which they were related. 

Every one must recollect the tragical story of young E , the 

Irish patriot ; ^ it was too touching to be soon forgotten. During the 
troubles in Ireland he was tried, condemned, and executed, on a charge 
of treason. His fate made a deep impression on public sympathy. 
He was so young — so intelligent — so generous — so brave — so 
everything that we are apt to like in a young man. His conduct under 
trial, too, was so lofty and intrepid. The noble indignation with which 
he repelled the charge of treason against his country — the eloquent 
vindication of his name — and his pathetic appeal to posterity, in the 
hopeless hour of condemnation — all these entered deeply into every 
generous bosom, and even his enemies lamented the stern policy that 
dictated his execution. 

But there was one heart, whose anguish it would be impossible to 
describe. In happier days and fairer fortunes he had won the affec- 
tions of a beautiful and interesting girl, the daughter of a late cele- 
brated Irish barrister. She loved him with the disinterested fervor 
of a woman's first and early love. When every worldly maxim arrayed 
itself against him ; when blasted in fortune, and disgrace and danger 
darkened around his name, she loved him the more ardently for his 
very sufferings. If, then, his fate could awaken the sympathy even" 
of his foes, what must have been the agony of her, whose whole soul 
was occupied by his image? Let those tell who have had the portals 
of the tomb suddenly closed between them and the • being they most 
loved on earth — who have sat at its threshold, as one shut out in a 
cold and lonely world, from whence aU that was most lovely and loving 
had departed. 



SELECTIONS FROM IRVING 457 

But then the horrors of such a grave ! — so frightful, so dishon- 
ored ! There was nothing for memory to dwell on that could soothe 
the pang of separation — none of those tender, though melancholy cir- 
cumstances, that endear the parting scene — nothing to melt sorrow 
into those blessed tears, sent, like the dews of heaven, to revive the 
heart in the parting hour of anguish. 

To render her widowed situation more desolate, she had incurred 
her father's displeasure by her unfortunate attachment, and was an 
exile from the paternal roof. But could the sympathy and kind ofTices 
of friends have reached a spirit so shocked and driven in by horror, 
she would have experienced no want of consolation, for the Irish are 
a people of quick and generous sensibilities. The most delicate and 
cherishing attentions were paid her, by families of wealth and distinc- 
tion. She was led into society, and they tried by all kinds of occupa- 
tion and amusement to dissipate her grief, and wean her from the tragi- 
cal story of her love. But it was all in vain. There are some strokes 
of calamity that scathe and scorch the soul — that penetrate to the 
vital seat of happiness — and blast it, never again to put forth bud or 
blossom. She never objected to frequent the haunts of pleasure, but 
she was as much alone there, as in the depths of solitude. She walked 
about in a sad reverie, apparently unconscious of the world around her. 
She carried with her an inward woe that mocked at all the blandishments 
of friendship, and "heeded not the song of the charmer, charm he never 
so wisely." 

The person who told me her story had seen her at a masquerade. 
There can be no exhibition of far-gone wretchedness more striking 
and painful than to meet it in such a scene. To find it wandering 
like a spectre, lonely and joyless, where all around is gay — to see it 
dressed out in the trappings of mirth, and looking so wan and woe- 
begone, as if it had tried in vain to cheat the poor heart into a mo- 
mentary forgetfulness of sorrow. After strolling through the splendid 
rooms and giddy crowd with an air of utter abstraction, she sat herself 
down on the steps of an orchestra, and looking about for some time with 
a vacant air, that showed her insensibility to the garish scene, she began, 
with the capriciousness of a sickly heart, to warble a little plaintive air. 
She had an exquisite voice ; but on this occasion it was so simple, so 
touching — it breathed forth such a soul of wretchedness — that she drew 
a crowd, mute and silent, around her, and melted every one into tears. 



458 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

The story of one so true and tender could not but excite great in- 
terest in a country remarkable for enthusiasm. It completely won 
the heart of a brave officer, who paid his addresses to her, and thought 
that one so true to the dead, could not but prove affectionate to the 
Hving. She declined his attentions, for her thoughts were irrecover- 
ably engrossed by the memory of her former lover. He, however, 
persisted in his suit. He solicited not her tenderness, but her esteem. 
He was assisted by her conviction of his worth, and her sense of her 
own destitute and dependent situation, for she was existing on the 
kindness of friends. In a word, he at length succeeded in gaining 
her hand, though with the solemn assurance that her heart was un- 
alterably another's. 

He took her with him to Sicily, hoping that a change of scene might 
wear out the remembrance of early woes. She was an amiable and 
exemplary wife, and made an effort to be a happy one; but nothing 
could cure the silent and devouring melancholy that had entered into 
her very soul. She wasted away in a slow, but hopeless decline, and 
at length sunk into the grave, the victim of a broken heart. 

It was on her that Moore, the distinguished Irish poet, composed 
the following lines : — 

"She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, 
And lovers around her are sighing ; 
But coldly she turns from their Raze, and weeps, 
For her heart in his grave is lying. 

She sin^s the wild sons of her dear native plains, 

Every note which he loved awaking — 
Ah ! little they think, who delight in her strains, 

How the heart of the minstrel is breaking! 

He had lived for his love — for his country he died. 
They were all that to life had entwined him — 

Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, 
Nor long will his love stay behind him ! 

Oh ! make her a grav^e where the sunbeams rest. 

When they promise a glorious morrow ; 
They'll shine o'er her sleep, like a smile from the west, 

From her own loved island of sorrow !" 



NOTES TO IRVIXG 459 



NOTES TO IRVING 

"Rip Van Winkle" and "The Broken Heart" are taken from the 
"Sketch Book." The former illustrates Irving's lighter vein, the latter his 
serious vein. For the circumstances under which the "Sketch Book" was 
written, consult the sketch of Irving. 

Irving i)refaced the story of "Rip Van Winkle" with the following ex- 
planation : "The following tale was found among the papers of the late Diedrich 
Knickerbocker, an old gentleman of New York, who was very curious in the 
Dutch history of the province, and the manners of the descendants from its 
primitive settlers. His historical researches, however, did not lie so much 
among books as among men; for the former are lamentably scanty on his 
favorite topics; whereas he found the old burghers, and still more, their wives, 
rich in that legendary lore so invaluable to true history. Whenever, therefore, 
he hapi)ened ujxjn a genuine Dutch family, snugly shut up in its low-roofed 
farmhouse, under a spreading sycamore, he looked upon it as a little clasped 
volume of black-letter, and studied it with the zeal of a bookworm. 

"The result of all these researches was a history of the province, during 
the reign of the Dutch governors, which he published some years since. There 
have been various opinions as to the literary character of his work, and to tell 
the truth, it is not a whit better than it should be. Its chief merit is its scrupu- 
lous accuracy, which, indeed, was a little questioned on its first appearance, but 
has since been completely established ; and it is now admitted into all historical 
collections, as a book of unquestionable authority. 

"The old gentleman died shortly after the publication of his work, and 
now, that he is dead and gone, it cannot do much harm to his memory to say 
that his time might have been much better employed in weightier labors. 
He, however, was apt to ride his hobby in his own way; and though it did 
now and then kick up the dust a little in the eyes of his neighbors, and grieve 
the spirit of some friends for whom he felt the truest deference and affection, 
yet his errors and follies are remembered 'more in sorrow than in anger,' and 
it begins to be suspected that he never intended to injure or ofifend.^ But 

» Knickerbocker's Histor>' of New York had given offence to some for its irreverent 
use of honored names and its caricature of Dutch character. In an address before the 
New York Historical Society. Gulian C. Verplanck, a friend of Irving's, said: "It is 
painful to sec a mind, as admirable for its exquisite perception of the beautiful as it is for 
its quick sense of the ridiculous, wasting the richness of its fancy on an ungrateful theme, 



460 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

however his memory may be appreciated by critics, it is still held dear among 
many folk, whose good opinion is well worth having; particularly by certain 
biscuit-bakers, who have gone so far as to imprint his likeness on their New- Year 
cakes, and have thus given him a chance for immortality almost equal to the 
being stamped on a Waterloo medal or a Queen Anne farthing." ^ 

The two pieces selected for special study well illustrate Irving's charac- 
teristics as a writer. We find in them an easy grace and elegance, a flowing 
and musical rhythm, a light play of fancy and humor, a delicate and tender 
sentiment, a smooth and unaffected narrative; picturesque description, and 
graphic delineation of character. Of Irving it may be said, as of few other 
writers, that the style is the man. His writings are suffused with his genial 
personality. Thackeray has described him in the family as "gentle, generous, 
good-humored, affectionate, self-denying; in society, a delightful example of 
complete gentlemanliness." These traits are reflected in his work. 

"His facility in writing and the charm of his style," says William Cullen 
Bryant, "were owing to very early practice, the reading of good authors, and 
the native elegance of his mind, and not, in my opinion, to any special study of 
the graces of manner or any anxious care in the use of terms and phrases. Words 
and combinations of words are sometimes found in his writings to which a 
fastidious taste might object; but these do not prevent his style from being 
one of the most agreeable in the whole range of our Hterature. It is transparent 
as the light, sweetly modulated, unaffected, the native expression of a fertile 
fancy, a benignant temper, and a mind which, delighting in the noble and the 
beautiful, turned involuntarily away from their opposites. His peculiar humor 
was, in a great measure, the offspring of this constitution of his mind. This 
'fanciful playing with common things,' as Mr. Dana calls it, is never coarse, 
never tainted with grossness, and always in harmony with our better sympathies. 
It not only tinged his writings, but overflowed in his delightful conversation." 

Rip Van Winkle 

1. William Cartwright (1611-1643) "was distinguished by a graceful 
person and attractive manner, and by extraordinary industry; and, indeed, 
his fame rests on his personal popularity and the praise which he received from 
his fellow-poets, and especially from Ben Jonson, rather than on the merit 
of his verses, which are, in fact, very ordinary productions." 

2. "The Catskill, Katskill, or Cat River Mountains," says Irving, "de- 

and its exuberant humor in a coarse caricature." Irving read this criticism just as he 
was finishing Rip Van Winkle, and accordingly made this pleasant reference and playful 
apology. 

.* According to a popular but baseless story, only three farthings were coined in 
Queen Anne's reign, of which two were in public keeping, and the other was lost. 



NOTES TO IRVING 461 

rived their name, in the time of the Dutch domination, from the catamounts 
by which they were infested; and which, with the bear, the wolf, and the 
deer, are still to be found in some of their most difficult recesses. ... To 
me they have ever been the fairy region of the Hudson. I speak, however, from 
eariy impressions, made in the happy days of boyhood, when all the world had 
a tinge of fairyland. I shall never forget my first view of these mountains. 
It was in the course of a voyage up the Hudson, in the good old times before 
steamboats and railroads had driven all poetry and romance out of travel. 
I was a lively boy, somewhat imaginative, of easy faith, and prone to relish 
everything that partook of the marvellous. Among the passengers on board 
of the sloop was a veteran Indian trader, on his way to the Lakes to traffic 
with the natives. He had discovered my propensity, and amused himself 
throughout the voyage by telling me Indian legends and grotesque stories about 
every noted place on the river. . . . The Catskill Mountains especially called 
forth a host of fanciful traditions. We were all day slowly tiding along in 
sight of them, so that he had full time to weave his whimsical narratives." 

3. Peter Stuyvesant (1602-1682) was governor of the New Netherlands 
from 1647 to 1664, when the province passed into the hands of the English. 
Three of the seven books of Knickerbocker's "History of New York" are 
devoted to his reign. He is characterized as " a tough, sturdy, valiant, weather- 
beaten, mettlesome, obstinate, leathern-sided, lion-hearted, generous-spirited 
old governor." 

4. In the illustrious catalogue of "the sturdy chivalry of the Hudson," who 
accompanied Stuyvesant in his expedition against Fort Christina, we find the 
Van Winkles. .\t the moment of setting out, these heroes were "all fortified 
with a mighty dinner, and to use the words of a great Dutch poet, — 

'Brimful of wrath and cabbage.'" 

5. .\ small rocky promontory on the right bank of the Hudson, forty-two 
miles from New York. It was stormed by Gen. .\nthony Wayne, July 16, 
1779. This is regarded by some as not only the most brilliant assault of the 
Revolutionary War, but the most brilliant in all history. 

6. Antony's Nose is a promontory a few miles above Stony Point. If we 
may believe Diedrich Knickerbocker, it was named after Antony Van Coriear- 
Stuyvesant's trumpeter. "It must be known that the nose of Antony the 
trumpeter was of a very lusty size, strutting boldly from his countenance like 
a mountain of Golconda. .... Now thus it happened, that bright and early 
in the morning, the good Antony, having washed his buriy visage, was lean- 
ing over the quarter railing of the galley, contemplating it in the glassy wave 
below. Just at this moment the illustrious sun breaking in all his splendor 
from behind a high bluif of the highlands, did dart one of his most potent 
beams full upon the refulgent nose of the sounder of brass — the reflection of 



462 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

which shot straightway down, hissing hot, into the water, and killed a mighty 
sturgeon that was sporting beside the vessel ! . . . When this astonishing 
miracle came to be made known to Peter Stuyvesant he . . . marvelled ex- 
ceedingly; and as a monument thereof, he gave the name of Antonyms Nose 
to a stout promontory in the neighborhood — and it has continued to be called 
Antony's Nose ever since that time." 

7. Adrian Vanderdonk, who wrote a "famous account of the New Nether- 
lands." 

8. To this story Irving appended the following note : "The foregoing tale, 
one would suspect, had been suggested to Mr. Knickerbocker by a little German 
superstition about the Emperor Frederick der Rothbart, and the Kypphauser 
mountain; the' subjoined note, however, which he had appended to the tale, 
shows that it is an absolute fact, narrated with his usual fidelity. 

"'The story of Rip Van Winkle may seem incredible to many, but never- 
theless I give it my full belief, for I know the vicinity of our old Dutch settle- 
ments to have been very subject to marvellous events and appearance. In- 
deed, I have heard many stranger stories than this, in the villages along the 
Hudson ; all of which were too well authenticated to admit of a doubt. I have 
even talked with Rip Van Winkle myself, who, when last I saw him, was a 
very old venerable man, and so perfectly rational and consistent on every other 
point, that I think no conscientious person could refuse to take this into the 
bargain ; nay, I have seen a certificate on the subject taken before a country 
justice and signed with a cross, in the justice's own handwriting. The story, 
therefore, is beyond the possibility of doubt. — D. K.'" 

The Broken Heart 

1. Thomas Middleton, a dramatic writer, who lived in the reign of Eliza- 
beth, James I, and Charles I. His earliest known piece belongs to 1602 
and his latest to 1626. 

2. Irving's own life illustrated a " romantic passion." 

3. Cupid, who was often represented with a bandage over his eyes. Why 
should he be thus represented, or called "blind"? 

4. Apparently a reference to Ps. Iv. 6, though not an exact quotation. 

5. This and the two preceding paragraphs recall Byron's lines : — 

"Man's love is of man's life a thing apart, 

'Tis woman's whole existence ; man may range 
The court, camp, church, the vessel, and the mart; 

Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange 
Pride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart. 
And few there are whom these cannot estrange." 



NOTES TO IRVING 



463 



6. Robert Emmet (i 778-1803) was a schoolfellow of the poet Moore. 
In 1803 he attempted to excite a revolution in Ireland, but ingloriously failed. 
He fled to the mountains; and perceiving that success was impossible, he re- 
solved to escape to the Continent. But he delayed to have a last interview 
with the lady to whom he was deeply attached, a daughter of Curran, the 
celebrated barrister. He was apprehended, condemned to death, and exe- 
cuted Sept. 20, 1803. His fate is commemorated by Moore in one of the "Irish 
Melodies": — 

"Oh : breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, 
Where cold and unhonored his relics are laid ; 
Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed, 
As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head. 

But night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps, 
Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps; 
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, 
Shall long keep his memory green in our souls." 



464 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



VIII 
SELECTION FROM COOPER 

ESCAPE FROM A PANTHERS 

By this time they ^ had gained the summit of the mountain, where 
they left the highway, and pursued their course under the shade of the 
stately trees that crowned the eminence. 

The day was becoming warm, and the girls plunged more deeply 
into the forest, as they found its invigorating coolness agreeably con- 
trasted to the excessive heat they had experienced in the ascent. The 
conversation,'^ as if by mutual consent, was entirely changed to the 
Httle incidents and scenes of their walk, and every tall pine, and every 
shrub or flower, called forth some simple expression of admiration. 

In this manner they proceeded along the margin of the precipice, 
catching occasional glimpses of the placid Otsego,^ or pausing to listen 
to the ratthng of wheels and the sounds of hammers, that rose from 
the valley, to mingle the signs of men with the scenes of nature, when 
Elizabeth suddenly started, and exclaimed, — 

''Listen! there are the cries of a child ^ on this mountain! is there 
a clearing near us ? or can some little one have strayed from its parents ? " 

"Such things frequently happen," returned Louisa. "Let us follow 
the sound : it may be a wanderer starving on the hill." 

Urged by this consideration, the females ^ pursued the low, mourn- 
ful sounds, that proceeded from the forest, with quick and impatient 
steps. More than once the ardent Elizabeth was on the point of an- 
nouncing that she saw the sufferer, when Louisa caught her by the 
arm, and pointing behind them, cried,'' — 

"Look at the dog!" 

Brave had been their companion, from the time the voice of his 
young mistress lured him from his kennel, to the present moment. 
His advanced age had long before deprived him of his activity; and 



SELECTION FROM COOPER 465 

when his companions stopped to view the scenery, or to add to their 
bouquets, the mastiff would lay his huge frame on the ground, and 
await their movements, with his eyes closed, and a listlessness in his 
air, that ill accorded with the character of a protector. But when, 
aroused by this cry from Louisa, Miss Temple turned, she saw the dog 
with his eyes keenly set on some distant object, his head bent near the 
ground, and his hair actually rising on his body, through fright or anger. 
It was most probably the latter, for he was growling in a low key, and 
occasionally showing his teeth, in a manner that would have terrified 
his mistress, had she not so well known his good quahties. 

''Brave!" she said, "be quiet. Brave! what do you see, fellow?" 

At the sounds of her voice, the rage of the mastifT, instead of being 
at all diminished, was very sensibly increased. He stalked in front of 
the ladies, and seated himself at the feet of his* mistress, growling louder 
than before, and occasionally giving vent to his ire, by a short, surly 
barking. 

"What docs he see?" said Elizabeth: "there must be some ani- 
mal in sight." 

Hearing no answer from her companion, ^liss Temple turned her 
head, and beheld Louisa, standing with her face whitened to the color 
of death, and her finger pointing upwards, with a sort of flickering, 
convulsed motion. The quick eye of Elizabeth glanced in the direction 
indicated by her friend, where she saw the fierce front and glaring eyes 
of a female panther, fixed on them in horrid malignity, and threatening 
to Icap.^ 

"Let us fly!" exclaimed Elizabeth, grasping the arm of Louisa, 
whose form yielded like melting snow. 

There was not a single feeling in the temperament of Elizabeth 
Temple that could prompt her to desert a companion in such an ex- 
tremity. She fell on her knees, by the side of the inanimate Louisa, 
tearing from the person of her friend, with instinctive readiness, such 
parts of her dress as might obstruct her respiration, and encouraging 
their only safeguard, the dog, at the same time, by the sounds of her 
voice. 

"Courage, Brave!" she cried, her own tones beginning to tremble, 
"courage, courage, good Brave!" 

A quarter-grown cub, that had hitherto been unseen, now appeared, 
dropping from the branches of a sapling that grew under the shade 



466 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

of the beech which held its dam. This ignorant, but vicious crea- 
ture approached the dog, imitating the actions and sounds of its parent, 
but exhibiting a strange mixture of the playfulness of a kitten with 
the ferocity of its race. Standing on its hind legs, it would rend the 
bark of a tree with its fore paws, and play the antics of a cat ; and then, 
by lashing itself with its tail, growhng, and scratching the earth, it 
would attempt the manifestations of anger that rendered its parent 
so terrific. 

All this time Brave stood firm and undaunted, his short tail erect, 
his body drawn backward on its haunches, and his eyes following the 
movements of both dam and cub. At every gambol played by the 
latter, it approached nigher to the dog, the growHng of the three be- 
coming more horrid at each moment, until the younger beast, over- 
leaping its intended bound, fell directly before the mastiff. There was 
a moment of fearful cries and struggles, but they ended almost as soon 
as commenced, by the cub appearing in the air, hurled from the jaws 
of Brave, with a violence that sent it against a tree so forcibly as to 
render it completely senseless.^ 

EHzabeth witnessed the short struggle, and her blood was warm- 
ing with the triumph of the dog, when she saw the form of the old 
panther in the air, springing twenty feet from the branch of the beech 
to the back of the mastiff. No words of ours can describe the fury 
of the conflict that followed. It was a confused struggle on the dry 
leaves, accompanied by loud and terrific cries. Miss Temple contin- 
ued on her knees, bending over the form of Louisa, her eyes fixed on 
the animals, with an interest so horrid, and yet so intense, that she 
almost forgot her own stake in the result. So rapid and vigorous were 
the bounds of the inhabitant of the forest, that its active frame seemed 
constantly in the air, while the dog nobly faced his foe at each succes- 
sive leap. When the panther lighted on the shoulders of the mastiff, 
which ^^ was its constant aim, old Brave, though torn with her talons," 
and stained with his own blood, that already flowed from a dozen 
wounds, would shake off his furious foe like a feather, and rearing on 
his hind legs, rush to the fray again, with jaws distended, and a daunt- 
less eye. But age, and his pampered life, greatly disqualified the noble 
mastiff for such a struggle. In everything but courage, he was only 
the vestige of what he had once been. A higher bound than ever raised 
the wary and furious beast far beyond the reach of the dog, who was 



SELECTION FROM COOPER 467 

making a desperate but fruitless dash at her, from which she ahghted 
in a favorable position, on the back of her aged foe. For a single mo- 
ment only could the panther remain there, the great strength of the 
dog returning with a convulsive effort. But Elizabeth saw, as Brave 
fastened his teeth in the side of his enemy, that the collar of brass 
around his neck, which had been glittering throughout the fray, was of 
the color of blood, and directly, that his frame was sinking to the earth, 
where it soon lay prostrate and helpless. 

Several mighty efforts of the wild-cat ^^ to extricate herself from 
the jaws of the dog followed, but they were fruitless, until the mastiff 
turned on his back, his lips collapsed, and his teeth loosened, when 
the short convulsions and stillness that succeeded announced the death 
of poor Brave. 

Elizabeth now lay wholly at the mercy of the beast. There is said 
to be something in the front of the image of the Maker that daunts 
the hearts of the inferior beings of his creation; and it would seem 
that some such power, in the present instance, suspended the threat- 
ened blow. The eyes of the monster and the kneeling maiden met 
for an instant, when the former stooped to examine her fallen foe ; 
next to scent her luckless cub. From the latter examination, it turned 
however, with its eyes apparently emitting flashes of fire, its tail 
lashing its sides furiously, and its claws projecting inches ^^ from her 
broad feet. 

Miss Temple did not or could not move. Her hands were clasped 
in the attitude of prayer, but her eyes were still drawn to her terrible 
enemy ; her cheeks were blanched to the whiteness of marble, and her 
lips were slightly separated with horror. 

The moment seemed now to have arrived for the fatal termination, 
and the beautiful figure of Elizabeth was bowing meekly to the stroke, 
when a rustling of leaves behind seemed rather to mock her organs 
than to meet her ears. 

"Hist! hist!" said a low voice, "stoop lower, gal; your bonnet 
hides the creatur's head." 

It was rather the yielding of nature than a compliance with this 
unexpected order, that caused the head of our heroine to sink on her 
bosom ; when she heard the report of the rifle, the whizzing of the bul- 
let, and the enraged cries of the beast, who was roUing over on the 
earth, biting its own flesh, and tearing the twigs and branches within 



468 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

its reach. At the next instant the form of the Leatherstocking rushed 
by her, and he called aloud, — 

*'Come in, Hector, come in, old fool; 'tis a hard-lived animal, and 
may jump ag'in." 

Natty fearlessly maintained his position in front of the females, 
notwithstanding the violent bounds and threatening aspect of the 
wounded panther, which gave several indications of returning strength 
and ferocity, until his rifle was again loaded, when he stepped up to 
the enraged animal, and placing the muzzle close to its head, every 
spark of life was extinguished by the discharge. 

The death of her terrible enemy appeared to Elizabeth like a resur- 
rection from her own grave. There was an elasticity in the mind of 
our heroine that rose to meet the pressure of instant danger, and the 
more direct it had been, the more her nature had struggled to over- 
come it. But still she was a woman. Had she been left to herself 
in her late extremity, she would probably have used her faculties to 
the utmost, and with discretion, in protecting her person ; but encum- 
^bered with her inanimate friend, retreat was a thing not to be attempted. 
Notwithstanding the fearful aspect of her foe, the eye of Elizabeth had 
never shrunk from its gaze, and long after the event her thoughts would 
recur to her passing sensations, and the sweetness of her midnight sleep 
would be disturbed, as her active fancy conjured,^* in dreams, the most 
trifling movements of savage fury that the beast had exhibited in its 
moment of power. 

We shall leave the reader to imagine the restoration of Louisa's 
senses, and the expressions of gratitude which fell from the young 
women. The former was effected by a little water, that was brought 
from one of the thousand springs of those mountains, in the cap of 
the Leatherstocking; and the latter were uttered with the warmth 
that might be expected from the character of Elizabeth. Natty re- 
ceived her vehement protestations of gratitude with a simple expres- 
sion of good-will, and with indulgence for her present excitement, but 
with a carelessness that showed how little he thought of the service he 
had rendered. 

"Well, well," he said, "be it so, gal; let it be so, if you wish it — 
we'll talk the thing over another time. Come, come ; let us get into 
the road, for you've had terror enough to make you wish yourself in 
■your father's house ag'in." 



SELECTION FROM COOPER 469 

This was uttered as they were proceeding, at a pace that was adapted 
to the weakness of Louisa, towards the highway : on reaching which, 
the ladies separated from their guide, declaring themselves equal to the 
remainder of the walk without his assistance, and feeling encouraged 
by the sight of the village, which lay beneath their feet like a picture, 
with its limpid lake in front, the winding stream ^^ along its margin, 
and its hundred chimneys of whitened bricks. 

The reader need not be told the nature of the emotions which two 
youthful, ingenuous, and well-educated girls would experience at their 
escape from a death so horrid as the one which had impended over 
them, while they pursued their way in silence along the track on the 
side of the mountain ; nor how deep were their mental thanks to that 
Power which had given them their existence, and which had not de- 
serted them in their extremity ; neither how often they pressed each 
other's arms, as the assurance of their present safety came like a heal- 
ing balm athwart their troubled spirits, when their thoughts were 
recurring to the recent moments of horror. 

Leatherstocking remained on the hill, gazing after their retiring 
figures, until they were hidden by a bend in the road, when he whistled 
in his dogs, and shouldering his rifle, he returned into the forest. 

"Well, it was a skeary thing to the young creaturs," said Natty, 
while he retrod the path towards the plain. ''It might frighten an 
older woman, to see a she-painter ^^ so near her, with a dead cub by 
its side. I wonder if I had aimed at the varmint's eye, if I shouldn't 
have touched the life sooner than in the forehead ; but they are hard- 
lived animals, and it was a good shot, consid'ring that I could see noth- 
ing but the head and the peak of its tail." 



470 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



NOTES TO COOPER 

1. The "Escape from a Panther" is an episode taken from Chapter xxviii. 
of "The Pioneers." For a notice of this work, see the sketch of Cooper. This 
selection well illustrates our author's power of vivid description and narrative. 
As already pointed out, it is in work of this kind that he appears at his best. 

2. Miss EHzabeth Temple, the heroine of "The Pioneers," and her friend, 
Miss Louise Grant, daughter of the local rector. They are out on a pleasure 
walk, a short distance from Leatherstocking's hut, and not far from the village of 
Templeton, the name for Cooperstown adopted in the story. 

3. They had been talking about a young man, the hero of the tale, in whom, 
both were more interested than they would have cared to acknowledge, and 
about whose life there was a mystery — explained, of course, near the end of 
the story. 

4. Otsego Lake, about seven and a half miles long and one and a half 
miles wide. It is surrounded by high hills, and the scenery is picturesque. 

5. The cry of the panther, so old hunters have said, often bears a striking 
resemblance to the human voice, for which, as in the present case, it has some- 
times been mistaken. 

6. It was customary in Cooper's time to call a woman by the very indefinite 
title of "female" — a usage that has fortunately given way to better taste. 

7. Do you discover any incongruity in this sentence? Remodel and im- 
prove it. 

8. To this sentence Cooper appended the following note : "Not long since 
there appeared in the papers an account of a hunter, upon whose head a panther 
had leaped, as he was sitting in the woods. A severe struggle ensued. The man 
was seriously wounded, but saved himself by plunging into a piece of water 
close at hand, and diving beneath the surface. There can be no doubt that 
these animals have occasionally inflicted fatal wounds. Governor DeWitt 
Chnton mentioned a panther, killed early in this century near Oneida Lake, by 
a Frenchman. The animal was shot in the altitude of leaping on the man. Its 
length was nine feet, eleven inches. The head was taken to Schenectady, where 
it may possibly still be found." 

9. This sentence may be taken as illustrating Cooper's rapid and careless 
style. 

10. What is the antecedent of "which"? Note also the careless use of 
"its" and "her" in the same sentence. 



NOTES TO COOPER 47 1 

11. Is this a correct use of the word " talons " ? 

12. Is it correct to call a panther a " wild cat" ? 

13. Could this be strictly true? Note the unsteadiness in the use of the 
pronouns in this and the preceding sentence. 

14. What is the difference between conjure and conjure up ? Which is the 
correct word here ? 

15. The Susquehanna, one branch of which takes its rise in Otsego Lake. 

16. A term for panther frequently used by uneducated persons. 



472 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



IX 
SELECTIONS FROM BRYANT 

THANATOPSIS 

To him who in the love of Nature holds 
Communion ^ with her visible forms, she speaks 
A various language : for his gayer hours 
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile 
And eloquence of beauty ; - and she glides 
Into his darker musings,^ with a mild 
And healing ^ sympathy, that steals ^ away 
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts 
Of the last bitter ^ hour come like a blight 
Over thy spirit, and sad images 
Of the stern ^ agony, and shroud, and pall, 
And breathless darkness,^ and the narrow house, 
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart ; 
Go forth, under the open sky, and list 
To Nature's teachings, while from all around — 
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air — 
Comes a still voice : Yet a few days, and thee 
The all-beholding sun shall see no more 
In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground, 
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, 
Nor in the embrace ^ of ocean, shall exist 
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim 
Thy growth,^" to be resolved to earth again ; 
And, lost each human trace," surrendering up 
Thine individual being, shalt thou go 
To mix for ever with the elements ; 
To be a brother to the insensible ^^ rock. 
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain ^^ 



SELECTIONS FROM BRYANT 473 

Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak 
Shall send his roots abroad and pierce thy mould. 

Yet not to thine eternal resting-place 
Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish 
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down 
With patriarchs ^^ of the infant world, — with kings, 
The powerful of the earth, — the wise, the good, 
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past. 
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills 
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun ; ^^ the vales 
Stretching in pensive quietness ^^ between ; 
The venerable ^^ woods ; rivers that movo 
In majesty, and the complaining brooks 
That make the meadows green ; and poured round all, 
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy ^^ waste, — 
Are but the solemn decorations all 
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, 
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,^' 
Are shining on the sad abodes of death, 
Through the stiU lapse of ages. All that tread 
The globe are but a handful to the tribes ~^ 
That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings 
Of morning,2i pierce the Barcan wilderness,^^ 
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods 
Where rolls the Oregon,^^ and hears no sound 
Save his own dashings, — yet the dead are there ! 
And millions in those solitudes,^^ since first 
The flight of years began, have laid them down 
In their last sleep, — the dead reign there alone. 
So shalt thou rest ; and what if thou withdraw 
In silence " from the living, and no friend 
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe 
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh 
When thou art gone, the solemn brood ^^ of care 
Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase 
His favorite phantom ; " yet all these shaU leave 
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come 
And make their bed with thee. As the long train 



474 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Of ages glide ^^ away, the sons of men — 

The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes 

In the full strength of years, matron and maid. 

The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man ^^ — 

Shall one by one be gathered to thy side. 

By those who in their turn shall follow them. 

So live, that when thy summons comes to join 
The innumerable caravan that moves 
To that mysterious realm,^" where each shall take 
His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night, 
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 



TO A WATERFOWL 

Whither midst faUing dew,^ 
While glow ^ the heavens with the last steps of day, 
Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue 

Thy solitary ^ way ? 

Vainly the fowler's eye 
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, 
As, darkly seen against the crimson sky, 

Thy figure floats ^ along. 

Seek'st thou the plashy ^ brink 
Of weedy lake, or marge ^ of river wide. 
Or where the rocking billows rise and sink 

On the chafed ^ ocean-side ? 

There is a Power whose care 
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast ^ — 
The desert and illimitable air — 

Lone wandering, but not lost. 



SELECTIONS FROM BRYANT 475 

All day thy wings have fanned, 
At that far height/" the cold, thin atmosphere, 
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, 

Though the dark night is near. 

And soon that toil shall end ; 
Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest. 
And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend. 

Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. 

Thou'rt gone, the abyss ^^ of heaven 
Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet, on my heart 
Deeply has sunk the lesson ^- thou hast given, 

And shall not soon depart : 

He who, from zone to zone. 
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,- 
In the long way that I must tread alone. 

Will lead my steps aright. 



A FOREST HYMN 

The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned 
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,^ 
And spread the roof above them, — ere he framed 
The lofty vault, ^ to gather and roll back 
The sound of anthems ; ^ in the darkling ^ wood, 
Amid ^ the cool and silence, he knelt down. 
And offered to the Mightiest solemn ^ thanks 
And supplication. For his simple heart 
Might not ^ resist the sacred influences 
Which, from the stilly twiHght of the place. 
And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven 
Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 
Of the invisible breath that swayed at once 
All their green tops, stole ^ over him, and bowed 
His spirit with the thought of boundless power 



476 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

And inaccessible majesty. Ah, why 

Should we, in the world's riper years,^ neglect 

God's ancient sanctuaries,^" and adore 

Only among the crowd, and under roofs 

That our frail hands have raised ? Let me, at least, 

Here, in the shadow of this aged wood. 

Offer one hymn — thrice happy, if it find 

Acceptance in His ear. 

Father, thy hand 
Hath reared these venerable columns, thou 
Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down 
Upon the naked earth, '^ and, forthwith, rose 
All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun, 
Budded and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, 
And shot toward heaven. The century-living crow 
Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died 
Among their branches, till, at last, they stood, 
As now they stand, massy, and tall, and dark, 
Fit shrine ^- for humble worshipper to hold 
Communion with his Maker. These dim vaults. 
These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride 
Report ^^ not. No fantastic ^^ carvings show 
The boast of our vain race to change the form 
Of thy fair works. But thou art here — thou fill'st 
The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds 
That run along the summit of these trees 
In music ; thou art in the cooler breath 
That from the inmost darkness of the place 
Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, 
The fresh moist ground, are all instinct ^^ with thee. 
Here is continual worship ; — Nature, here. 
In the tranquilHty that thou dost love. 
Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around. 
From perch to perch, the solitary bird 
Passes; and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs, 
Wells softly forth and wandering steeps the roots 
Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale 
Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left 



SELECTIONS FROM BRYANT 477 

Thyself without a witness, in the shades, 

Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace 

Are here to speak of thee. This mighty oak — 

By whose immovable stem I stand and seem 

Almost annihilated — not a prince, 

In all that proud oldVorld beyond the deep, 

E'er wore his crown as loftily as he 

Wears the green coronal of leaves with which 

Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root 

Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare 

Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower, 

With scented breath and look so like a smile, 

Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, 

An emanation ^^ of the indwelling Life, 

A visible token of the upholding Love, 

That are the soul of this great universe. 

My heart is awed within me when I think 
Of the great miracle that still goes on, 
In silence, round me — the perpetual work 
Of thy creation, finished, yet renewed 
Forever. Written on thy works I read 
The lesson of thy own eternity. 
Lo ! all grow old and die — but see again, 
How on the faltering footsteps of decay 
Youth presses — ever gay and beautiful youth 
In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees 
Wave not less proudly that their ancestors 
Moulder beneath them. Oh, there is not lost 
One of earth's charms : upon her bosom yet. 
After the flight of untold centuries, 
The freshness of her far beginning lies 
And yet shall he. Life mocks the idle hate 
Of his arch-enemy Death — yea, seats himself 
Upon the tjn-ant's throne — the sepulchre, 
And of the triumphs of his ghastly foe 
Makes his own nourishment. For he ^^ came forth 
From thine own bosom, and shall have no end. 



478 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

There have been holy men ^^ who hid themselves 
Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave 
Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived 
The generation born with them, nor seemed 
Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks 
Around them ; — and there have been holy men 
Who deemed it were not well to pass life thus. 
But let me often to these solitudes 
Retire, and in thy presence reassure 
My feeble virtue. Here its enemies, 
The passions, at thy plainer footsteps shrink 
And tremble and are still. God ! when thou 
Dost scare the world with tempests, set on fire 
The heavens with faUing thunderbolts, or fill. 
With all the waters of the firmament, 
The swift dark whirlwind ^^ that uproots the woods 
And drowns the villages ; when, at thy call, 
iJprises the great deep and throws himself 
Upon the continent, and overwhelms 
Its cities — who forgets not, at the sight 
Of these tremendous tokens of thy power, 
His pride, arid lays his strifes and follies by? 
Oh, from these sterner aspects of thy face 
Spare me and mine, nor let us need the wrath 
Of the mad, unchained elements to teach 
Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate, 
In these jcalm shades, thy milder majesty. 
And to the beautiful order of thy works 
Learn to conform the order of our lives. 



TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN ^ 

Thou blossom, bright with autumn dew, 
And colored with the heaven's own blue. 
That openest when the quiet light 
Succeeds the keen and frosty night ; 



SELECTIONS FROM BRYANT 479 

Thou comest not when violets lean 
O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen, 
Or columbines,^ in purple dressed, 
Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest. 

Thou waitest late, and com'st alone. 
When woods are bare and birds are flown, 
And frosts and shortening days portend 
The aged Year is near his end. 

Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye 
Look through its fringes to the sky, 
Blue — blue — as if that sky let fall 
A flower from its cerulean wall. 

I would that thus, when I shall see 
The hour of death draw near to me, 
Hope, blossoming within my heart. 
May look to heaven as I depart. 



THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS 

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, 

Of waiHng winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. 

Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ; 

They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread. 

The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, 

And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. 

Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers that lately sprang and 

stood 
In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood? 
Alas ! they all are in their graves ; the gentle race of flowers 
Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. 
The rain is falling where they lie ; but the cold November rain 
Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again. 

The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago, 

And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow ; 



480 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

But on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, 
And the yellow sun-flower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood — 
Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men. 
And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland, glade and 
glen. 

And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come, 

To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home ; 

When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are 

still, 
And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, 
The South Wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, 
And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more. 

And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, 

The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side. 

In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forests cast the leaf, 

And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief ; 

Yet not unmeet it was that one like that young friend of ours, 

So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers. 



THE EVENING WIND 

Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou 
That cool'st the twilight of the sultry day ! 

Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow ; 
Thou hast been out upon the deep at play. 

Riding all day the wild blue waves till now. 

Roughening their crests, and scattering high their spray, 

And sweUing the white sail. I welcome thee 

To the scorched land, thou wanderer of the sea ! 

Nor I alone, — a thousand bosoms round 

Inhale thee in the fulness of delight ; 
And languid forms rise up, and pulses bound 

Liveher, at coming of the wind of night ; 
And languishing to hear thy welcome sound. 

Lies the vast inland, stretched beyond the sight. 



SELECTIONS FROM BRYANT 4^^ 

Go forth into the gathering shade ; go forth, — 
God's blessing breathed upon the fainting earth. 

Go, rock the httle wood-bird in his nest ; 

Curl the still waters, bright with stars ; and rouse 
The wide old wood from his majestic rest, 

Summoning, from the innumerable boughs. 
The strange deep harmonies that haunt his breast. 

Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows 
The shutting tlower, and darkling waters pass, 
And where the o'ershadowing branches sweep the grass. 

Stoop o'er the place of graves, and softly sway 

The sighing herbage by the gleaming stone. 
That they who near the churchyard willows stray, 

And listen in the deepening gloom, alone. 
May think of gentle souls that passed away, 

Like thy pure breath, into the vast unknown, 
Sent forth from heaven among the sons of men, 
And gone into the boundless heaven again. 

The faint old man shall lean his silver head 

To feel thee ; thou shalt kiss the child asleep, 
And dry the moistened curls that overspread 

His temples, while his breathing grows more deep ; 
And they who stand about the sick man's bed 

Shall joy to listen to thy distant sweep, 
And softly part his curtains to allow 
Thy visit, grateful to his burning brow. 

Go, — but the circle of eternal change. 

Which is the life of nature, shall restore. 
With sounds and scents from all thy mighty range. 

Thee to thy birthplace of the deep once more. 
Sweet odors in the sea air, sweet and strange. 

Shall tell the homesick mariner of the shore ; 
And, listening to thy murmur, he shall deem 
He hears the rustling leaf and running stream. 



482 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



NOTES TO BRYANT 

A FEW suggestions are made in reference to the study of poetry in general. 

1. It is desirable to know as much as possible about the poet. Character 
and beliefs are reflected in poetry. All great poets have fundamental religious 
or philosophic beliefs that give tone to their productions. It is impossible 
fully to understand what is most characteristic in Wordsworth, Emerson, or 
Browning without a knowledge of their views of nature and of human Hfe. 

2. It will prove helpful in many cases to know the circumstances under 
which any given poem was written. The poet is apt to turn his experience, 
whether happy or unhappy, into verse. Sorrow especially forces from his 
soul the sweet perfume of poetry. If we know the occasion of its composition, 
it will generally be easier for us to catch the full meaning of the poem. When we 
know the circumstances under which it was written, Bryant's poem "To a 
Waterfowl" becomes much more interesting. 

3. A genuine poem should be carefully studied. The words should be 
weighed, the allusions cleared up, the scenes pictured by the imagination. 
The structure of the verse should be clearly comprehended. The harmony and 
force of each line and sentence should be tested. The development of the poem 
and the symmetry of its parts should be traced. As our great poets are consum- 
mate artists, and use language with exquisite care, this painstaking process will 
constantly reveal new beauties. 

4. As far as possible, we should enter into sympathy with the poet. We 
should surrender to his spell, and glow with his emotions. We should fondly 
linger in the enchanted region to which he introduces us ; for it is only thus that 
we pass at length into the fulness of his vision and rapture. The painstaking 
labor spent upon any poem is but preliminary to this full enjoyment. 

Thanatopsis 

For facts concerning the composition and publication of this poem, see the 
sketch of Bryant. 

The title (from Greek thanatos, death, and opsis, view), means a view of, or 
meditation on, death. 

The poem illustrates two of Bryant's leading characteristics : (i) his sym- 
pathy with nature, and (2) his reflective, ethical tone. 

As first published in the North American Review, the poem began with the 
lines, — 



NOTES TO BRYANT 483 

"Yet a few days, and thee 
The all-beholding sun shall see no more 
In all his course," 

and closed with the words, — 

"And make their bed with thee." 

The present beautiful beginning and close were added in 1822, when eight 
of Bryant's poems were published in a pamphlet of forty-eight pages. 

Bryant is distinguished for the quality of his blank verse. No other 
American poet has used it so effectively. It has an elevation, rhythm, 
and sonorous music that furnish a fitting dress for his lofty thought and deep 
emotion. 

The several parts of this poem and the movement of thought may be briefly 
indicated as follows: i. Nature speaks a various language to those who love 
and commune with her (lines 1-8). 2. When sorrowful thoughts of death 
come to the soul, Usten to Nature's teachings (8-17). 3. Her voice tells us 
that our forms will soon vanish from the earth (17-30). 4. Yet our resting- 
place is hallowed by the presence of the mighty, the wise, and the good, and 
decorated by the hills, woods, rivers and "Old ocean's gray and melancholy 
waste" (30-45). 5. The innumerable dead that reign in all parts of the earth 
(45-57). 6. The present and coming generations will all come to make their 
bed with us in the dust (57-72). 7. We should so live as to approach the grave 
with an unfaltering trust (72-81). 

1. Explain ^Uotnmunion.^^ What "visible forms" are meant? 

2. Eloquence of beauty = a beauty capable of exciting deep emotion. 

3. Explain "darker musings." Note the force of the word " glides." 

4. In some editions we find '^ gentle" in place of "healing." Which is 
preferable ? 

5. What is the force of "steals " here, and why is it better than takes ? 

6. Give a synonym of "bitter," and explain "blight" in the same line. 

7. Explain "stern." 

8. That is, of the coffin in the "narrow house" or grave. 

9. Embrace = clasp. French en, in, and bras, arm. 

10. Growth = developed form. 

11. Parse "trace." 

12. What is the meaning of " m5e;mWe " ? Is there any difference between 
"insensible" and "sluggish" in the next line? 

13. Explain "rude swain." 

14. What is the etymology of "patriarchs " and who are meant here? 

15. This statement is not strictly true ; but when Bryant wrote, the nebu- 
lar hypothesis was not so generally adopted, and geolo'^ical science was yet in 



484 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

its infancy. As a matter of fact, the hills are a comparatively recent phenomenon 
in the history of our globe, and certainly much less ancient than the sun. 

16. Explain ^^ pensive quietness. ^^ 

17. Give the exact idea of "venerable.^' 

18. Note the fine effect of these adjectives. Give a synonym of ''mel- 
ancholy.^^ 

19. What is meant by this phrase? 

20. What is meant by ''tribes " ? 

21. An adaptation of Ps. cxxxix. 9: "If I take the wings of the morning, 
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea." 

22. Other readings are : "Traverse Barca's desert sands," and "the Barcan 
desert pierce." Which is preferable? Barca is a country in northern Africa. 

23. Another name for the Columbia River. 

24. This statement is true of Barca, which at present has a population of a 
million, and contains ruins indicative of a flourishing era in the past ; but its 
truth is not so obvious in the case of the Oregon. 

25. Other readings are : "If thou withdraw Unheeded," and "If thou shalt 
fall Unnoticed." 

26. Brood = progeny, offspring. Paraphrase this sentence. 

27. What is a "phantom" ? What are some of the "phantoms" men 
pursue ? 

28. Bryant also wrote "glides.'' Which is better? 

29. For this line, the following is substituted in some editions : — 

"The bowed with age, the infant in the smiles 
And beauty of its innocent age cut off," 

which is certainly more poetical. 

30. Another reading is: "The pale realms of shade." Which do you 

prefer ? 

To A Waterfowl 

For the circumstances of its composition, see the sketch of Bryant. 
The following incident is related by Mr. Parke Godwin : — 
"Once when the late Matthew Arnold, with his family, was visiting the 
ever-hospitable country home of Mr. Charles Butler, I happened to spend an 
evening there. In the course of it Mr. Arnold took up a volume of Mr. Bryant's 
poems from a table, and, turning to me, said, 'This is the American poet, facile 
princeps' ; and after a pause he continued : 'When I first heard of him, Hartley 
Coleridge (I was but a lad at the time) came into my father's house one afternoon 
considerably excited, and exclaimed, "Matt, do you want to hear the best 
short poem in the English language?" "Faith, Hartley, I do," was my reply. 
He then read a poem "To a Waterfowl," in his best manner. And he was a 
good reader. As soon as he had done, he asked, "What do you think of that?" 



NOTES TO BRYANT 485 

" I am not sure but you are right, Hartley ; is that your father's ? " was my reply. 
"No," he rejoined; "father has written nothing like that.'" Some days after 
he might be heard muttering to himself, — 

" * The desert and illimitable air, 
Lone wandering, but not lost.' " ^ 

Note the use of the generic term "waterfowl." Can you give a reason for 
this? What aquatic fowl is probably meant? 

Make an analysis of the poem so as to give the order of thought in the 
successive stanzas. Do not fail mentally to picture the scenes described. 

1. Explain the phenomenon of "dew." Does all dew fall ? At what time 
is the "waterfowl" seen by the poet? 

2. Explain "glow." What figure of speech is used with "day" ? 

3. Does the "waterfowl" in question usually migrate alone? What form 
do the flocks generally assume in their migrations? 

4. Why should the poet think of a "fowler" as he watches the waterfowl? 

5. Why use the word "floats" here? 

6. Explain " pi ashy." 

7. What word would the poet have used in prose? 

8. Explain "chafed." All the waters mentioned in this stanza are visited 
by the wild goose, with the habits of which the poet was evidently acquainted. 

9. Coast = region — an unusual meaning. 

10. These birds usually fly at a great height. It is only when confused 
or lost that they fly near the earth. 

11. Abyss = immeasurable space. From Greek a privative, and bussos, 
depth, bottom. Etymologically, a bottomless depth. 

12. Here we have another illustration of Bryant's ethical habit of mind. 
The following stanza contains the lesson learned. 

A Forest Hymn 

In this poem Bryant's deep religious nature is clearly apparent. 
Make an analysis of the poem by noting the successive topics. 

1. Explain "shaft" and "architrave." See illustrations in a good dictionary. 

2. Vault = arched roof or ceiling. In the great cathedrals of Europe the 
arched ceiling is often very lofty. 

3. As poured forth from the great cathedral organs and large choirs. 

4. Darkling = dusky, gloomy. "The pres. part, of a supposed verb 
darkle, diminutive from dark." — Webster. 

5. In some editions we find "amidst." "Amid" is used mostly in poetry. 

6. Give a synonym for "solemn." 

^ Bigelow, William Cullen Bryant, p. 43. 



486 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

7. Might not = was not able. A. S. niagan, to be able. 

8. What is the subject of ''stole"? From what three separate objects 
came the "sacred influences"? 

9. Explain "riper years." 

10. What is the etymological force of sanctuary ? 

11. Bryant had in mind Gen. i. 10, 11. 

12. Explain "shrine" Why does Bryant say "humble worshipper"? 

13. Report = tell. 

14. Fantastic = existing only in imagination; hence, unhke anything in 
nature. Such ornamentation can hardly be justified on any correct principles 
of architecture. According to Ruskin, ornamentation should in some degree 
express or adopt the beauty of natural objects. "All noble ornament is the 
expression of man's delight in God's work." 

15. Instinct = moved, animated. Lat. instinguere, to instigate, incite. 

16. Emanation = that which issues from any source. Lat. e, out, and 
manare, to flow. 

17. To what does "he" refer? 

18. These were the anchorets or hermits of the early centuries of the 
Christian -era. "They lived in caves, avoided all intercourse with their fellow- 
men, abstained as much as possible from food, spoke no word, but prayed in 
silence." — Schaf-Herzog Encyclopcedia. 

19. Express "the swift dark whirlwind" in a single word. 

To THE Fringed Gentian 

This poem is justly admired for its delicate feeling. The poet's love of 
nature, exhibited in the various fine descriptions of "Thanatopsis," and "A 
Forest Hymn," is here centred in a little flower. His acquaintance with the 
appearance and habits of the several flowers mentioned indicates his attentive 
observation. 

1. Gentiana crinita, or Blue Fringed Gentian, found in cool, low grounds 
from Canada to Carolina. The stem is about a foot high, and the flowers are 
sky-blue. It blooms in autumn. 

2. Aquilegia Vulgaris, or common Columbine. It blooms in June, with 
large purple flowers. Another common species, Aquilegia Canadensis, has 
scarlet flowers. 

The Death of the Flowers 

This poem was written in memory of the poet's sister, the beloved companion 
of his earher years. See the sketch of Bryant. "No one is to be envied," says 
a biographer, "who can read the closing stanzas to-day without emotion." 

What characteristics of the poet are exemphfied in this piece? This poem, 
as well as the following one, "The Evening Wind," will repay careful study. 



SELECTIONS FROM POE 4^7 



X 

SELECTIONS FROM POE 
THE RAVEN 

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, 
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore — 
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, 
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 
"Tis some visitor," I muttered, ''tapping at my chamber door — 

Only this and nothing more." ^ 

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,^ 
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. 
Eagerly I wished the morrow ; — vainly I had sought to borrow 
From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore — 
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore — 

Nameless here for evermore. 

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain ' 
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before ; 
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating 
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door — 
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door ; ^ 

This it is and nothing more." 

Presently my soul grew stronger ; hesitating then no longer, 
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; 
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping. 
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, 
That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door ; — 

Darkness there and nothing more. 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, 
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before ; 
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, 



488. AMERICAN LITERATURE 

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, '^Lenore?" 
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word "Lenore !" — 

Merely this and nothing more. 

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, 
Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before. 
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice; 
Let me see, then, what thereat is and this mystery explore — 
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore ; — 

'Tis the wind and nothing more." 

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,^ 
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. 
Not the least obeisance made he ; not a minute stopped or stayed he, 
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door — 
Perched upon a bust of Pallas ^ just above my chamber door — 

Perched, and sat, and nothing more. 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling. 

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, 

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no 

craven, 
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore — 
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore ! " 

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." ' 

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, 
Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore ; 
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being 
Every yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door — 
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, 

With such name as "Nevermore." 

But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only 
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. 
Nothing farther then he uttered ; not a feather then he fluttered — 
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before — 
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before." 

Then the bird said "Nevermore." 



SELECTIONS FROM POE 489 

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, 
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, 
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster 
FoUowed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore — 
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore 

Of 'Never — nevermore.'" 

But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, 
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door ; 
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking 
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore — 
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore — 

Meant in croaking "Nevermore." 

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing 
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core ; 
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining 
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er. 
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er 

She shall press, ah, nevermore ! 

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer 
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. 
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath 

sent thee 
Respite — respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore ! 
Quaff, oh quafif this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore !" 

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." 

"Prophet !" said I, "thing of evil ! — prophet still, if bird or devil ! 
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, 
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted — 
On this Home by horror haunted — tell me truly, I implore — 
Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore !" 

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." 

"Prophet !" said I, "thing of evil — prophet still, if bird or devil ! 
By that heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore — 
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, 



490 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore — 
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore." 

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." * 

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend ! " I shrieked, upstarting — 

"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore ! 

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! 

Leave my loneliness unbroken ! — quit the bust above my door ! 

Take thy beak from out my heart,'-* and take thy form from off my 

door!" 

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." 

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting 
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; 
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, 
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; '" 
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor 

Shall be lifted — nevermore. 



THE MASQUE » OF THE RED DEATH 

The "Red Death" ^ had long devastated the country. No pesti- 
lence had ever been so fatal or so hideous. Blood was its Avator ' 
and its seal — the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp 
pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, 
with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially 
upon the face of the victim were the pest ban'' which shut him out from 
the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, 
progress, and termination of the disease were the incidents of half an hour. 

But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. 
When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his pres- 
ence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights 
and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of 
one of his castellated abbeys.^ This was an extensive and magnifi- 
cent structure, the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august 
taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of 
iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy 
hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither 
of ingress or egress ^ to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy 



SFLECTIOXS FK(nr FOE 491 

from within. The abbey was amply i)rovisionc(i. With such j)rc- 
cautions the courtiers might bid detiance to contagion.' The exter- 
nal world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to 
grieve or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of 
pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori/ there were 
ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine. 
All these and security were within. Without was the "Red Death." 

It was toward the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion, 
and while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince 
Prospero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most 
unusual magnificence. 

It was a voluptuous scene, tliat nias(|ucra(le. Hut first let me tell 
of the rooms in which it was held. There were seven — an imperial 
suite. In many palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight 
vista,' while the folding doors slide l)ack nearly to the walls on either 
hand, so that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here 
the case was very different, as might have been expected from the 
duke's love of the bizarre}^ The apartments were so irregularly dis- 
posed that the vision embraced but little more than one at a time. 
There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each 
turn a novel effect. To the right and left, in the middle of each wall, 
a tall and narrow (lOthic window looked out upon a closed corridor 
which pursued the windings of the suite. These windows were of 
stained glass, whose color varied in accordance with the prevailing hue 
of the decorations of the chamber into which it opened. That at the 
eastern extremity was hung, for example, in blue — and vividly blue 
were its windows. The second chamber was purple in its ornaments 
and tapestries, and here the panes were purple. The third was green 
throughout, and so were the casements. The fourth was furnished 
and lighted with orange — the fifth with white — the sixth with violet. 
The seventh apartment was closely shrouded in black velvet tapestries, 
that luing all ovi-r the ceiling and down the walls, falling in heavy 
folds upon a carpet of the same material and hue. But in this cham- 
ber only, the color of the windows failed to correspond with the dec- 
orations. The panes here were scarlet — a deep blood-color. Now, in 
no one of the seven apartments was there any lamp or candelabrum " 
amid the profusion of golden ornaments that lay scattered to and fro 
or depended from the roof. There was no light of any kind cmana- 



492 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

ting from lamp or candle within the suite of chambers. But in the cor- 
ridors that followed the suite, there stood, opposite to each window, 
a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier ^^ of fire, that projected its rays through 
the tinted glass and so glaringly illumined the room. And thus were 
produced a multitude of gaudy and fantastic appearances. But in 
the western or black chamber the effect of the fire-light that streamed 
upon the dark hangings through the blood-tinted panes was ghastly 
in the extreme, and produced so wild a look upon the countenances of 
those who entered, that there were few of the company bold enough 
to set foot within its precincts at all. 

It was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western 
wall a gigantic clock of ebony. ^^ Its pendulum swung to and fro with 
a dull, heavy, monotonous clang ; and when the minute hand made the 
circuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came from 
the brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and 
deep and exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis 
that, at each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were 
constrained to pause momentarily in their performance, to hearken to 
the sound ; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions ; and 
there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company ; and, while the 
chimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew 
pale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows 
as if in confused reverie or meditation. But when the echoes had 
fully ceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly ; the 
musicians looked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervous- 
ness and folly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the 
next chiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; 
and then, after the lapse of sixty minutes (which embrace three thou- 
sand and six hundred seconds of the Time that flies), there came yet 
another chiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and 
tremulousness and meditation as before. 

But, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. 
The tastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colors 
and effects. He disregarded the decora ^^ of mere fashion. His plans 
were bold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with barbaric lustre. 
There are some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt 
that he was not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to 
be sure that he was not. 



SELECTIONS FROM POE 493 

He had directed, in great part, the movable embelHshments of the 
seven chambers upon occasion of this great fete; and it was his own 
guiding taste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure 
they were grotesque. There were much glare and gUtter and piquancy 
and phantasm — much of what has been since seen in "Hernani."^^ 
There were arabesque ^^ figures with unsuited Umbs and appointments. 
There were delirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There 
were much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, 
something of the terrible, and not a little of that which might have 
excited disgust. To and fro in the seven chambers there stalked, in 
fact, a multitude of dreams. And these — the dreams — writhed in 
and about, taking hue from the rooms, and causing the wild music of 
the orchestra to seem as the echo of their steps. And, anon, there 
strikes the ebony clock which stands in the hall of the velvet. And 
then for a moment, all is still, and all is silent save the voice of the 
clock. The dreams are stiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of 
the chime die away — they have endured but an instant — and a light, 
half-subdued laughter floats after them as they depart. And now again 
the music swells, and the dreams live, and writhe to and fro more mer- 
rily than ever, taking hue from the many tinted windows through 
which stream the rays from the tripods. But to the chamber which 
lies most westwardly of the seven, there are now none of the maskers 
who venture; for the night is waning away; and there flows a ruddier 
light through the blood-colored panes ; and the blackness of the sable 
drapery appalls; and to him whose foot falls upon the sable carpet 
there comes from the near clock of ebony a muffled peal more solemnly 
emphatic than any which reaches their ears who indulge in the more 
remote gayeties of the other apartments. 

But these other apartments were densely crowded, in them beat 
feverishly the heart of Hfe. And the revel went whirhngly on, until 
at length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. 
And then the music ceased, as I have told; and the evolutions of the 
waltzers were quieted ; and there was an uneasy cessation of all thmgs 
as before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the 
beU of the clock ; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought 
crept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among 
those' who revelled. And thus, too, it happened, perhaps, that before 
the last echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there 



494 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

were many individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to become 
aware of the presence of a masked figure which had arrested the atten- 
tion of no single individual before. And the rumor of this new pres- 
ence having spread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length 
from the whole company a buzz or murmur expressive of disapproba- 
tion and surprise — then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust. 

In an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well 
be supposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sen- 
sation. In truth, the masquerade license of the night was nearly un- 
limited ; but the figure in question had out-Heroded Herod,^" and 
gone beyond the bounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. 
There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be 
touched without emotion. Even with the utterly lost, to whom hfe 
and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jests can be 
made. The whole company, indeed, seemed now deeply to feel that 
in the costume and bearing of the stranger neither wit nor propriety 
existed. The figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded from head to 
foot in the habiliments of the grave. The mask which concealed the 
visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a stiffened 
corpse that the closest scrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting 
the cheat. And yet all this might have been endured, if not approved, 
by the mad revellers around. But the mumrner ^^ had gone so far 
as to assume the type of the Red Death. His vesture was dabbled 
in hlood; and his broad brow, with all the features of the face, was 
besprinkled with the scarlet horror. 

When the eyes of Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image 
(which with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain 
its rdlc, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be con- 
vulsed in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror or 
distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage. 

"Who dares?" he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood 
near him — "who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? 
Seize him and unmask him — that we may know whom we have to hang 
at sunrise from the battlements!" 

It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince 
Prospero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven 
rooms loudly and clearly; for the prince was a bold and robust man, 
and the music had become hushed at the waving of his hand. 



SELECTIONS FROM POE 495 

It -was in the blue room where stood the prince with a group of 
pale clurtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight 
ruhing movement of this group in the direction of the -Uuder w-ho 
at r moment, was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and 
stately Tep m de closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain 
nameless a^e with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had 
Zuedth whole party, there were found none who put forth hand 
to s ze h m- so that, unimpeded, he passed within a yard of the prmce s 
pesna'd, while Ihe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank 
tom"he centres of the rooms to the walls, he made h,s way unm er- 
rupTedly but with the same solemn and measured step which had dis- 
"nKuished him from the first, through the blue chamber to the purple 
-Tough the purple to the green - through the green to the orange 
-St this'ag'ain to the white-and even thence to the v.o.e , 
ere a decided movement had been made to arrest him. I was then 
howeve that the Prince Prospero, maddening with rage and the shame 
of hilown momentary cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the six 
chambers while none followed him on account of a deadly terror that 
£S upon all. He bore aloft a drawn dagger - ^a ^oach . 
in raoid impetuosity, to within three or tour feet of the retreating ng 
ure, irthe latter^aving attained the extremity of the veWet^P-^ 
ment turned suddenly an,l confronted his pursuer. Ihere was a sharp 
"v-and the dagge dropped gleaming upon the sable carpet, upon 
:h'ich.tt:ntly anerward, fell prostrate '^^ ^^^^^^^J^^^l^:^:, 
Then summoning the wUd courage of despair, a throng of the revellers 
It orice threw themselves into the black apartment, and^ s-n^ '^^^ 
mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and motionless -t^m the had 
of the ebony clock, gasped in unutteraWe horror at 6"^-^ 'he^f f^ 
cerements and corpse-like mask which they handled with so violent 
rudeness, untenanted by any tangible form. , „ 

And now was acknowledged the presence of the ^JTt rfv- 
had come like a thief in the night. And one by one d™PPed *« -v 



over all, 



496 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



NOTES TO POE 
The Raven 

For facts connected with the publication of "The Raven," and also for 
a statement of Poe's poetical principles, see the preceding sketch. 

In a paper entitled "The Philosophy of Composition," the poet has given 
us a rather incredible description of the method he pursued in the composition 
of "The Raven." Whatever may be thought of the truthfulness of the descrip- 
tion (his word for it is hardly sufi&cient), it throws much light on the structure of 
the poem. The following notes are chiefly an abridgment of Poe's analysis, 
which the student would do well to read in full. 

The story in prose Poe gives as follows: "A raven, having learned by rote 
the single word 'Nevermore,' and having escaped from the custody of its owner, 
is driven at midnight, through the violence of a storm, to seek admission at a 
window from which a light still gleams, — the chamber-window of a student, 
occupied half in poring over a volume, half in dreaming of a beloved mistress 
deceased. The casement being thrown open at the fluttering of the bird's 
wings, the bird itself perches on the most convenient seat out of the immediate 
reach of the student, who, amused by the incident and the oddity of the visitor's 
demeanor, demands of it, in jest and without looking for a reply, its name. The 
raven addressed answers with its customary word, 'Nevermore' — a word 
which finds immediate echo in the melancholy heart of the student, who, giving 
utterance aloud to certain thoughts suggested by the occasion, is again startled 
by the fowl's repetition of 'Nevermore.' The student now guesses the state 
of the case, but is impelled, by the human thirst for self-torture, and in part by 
superstition, to propound such queries to the bird as will bring him, the lover, 
the most of the luxury of sorrow, through the anticipated answer ' Nevermore.' " 
After having decided to write a poem, the first thing to be determined, Poe 
tells us, was its length. In order to secure unity of impression, it should not 
be too long to be read at a single sitting. Furthermore, it ought not to extend 
beyond the limits of the soul to bear intense emotion. From these considera- 
tions, he reached the conclusion, so he says, that his poem should consist of 
about one hundred Hues. It contains, in fact, a hundred and eight. 

As to the impression or eff"ect to be conveyed, Poe held that " Beauty is the 
sole legitimate province of the poem." The tone of its highest manifestation 
is one of sadness. " Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, in- 
variably excites the sensitive soul to tears. Melancholy is thus the most legiti- 
mate of all the poetical tones." 

By his usual ratiocination Poe reached the conclusion that "the death of 
a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world; 



NOTES TO POE 497 

and equally is it beyond doubt that the lips best suited for such topic are those 
of a bereaved lover." 

As to the metre, " the feet employed throughout (trochees) consist of a long 
syUable followed by a short : the first line of the stanza consists of eight of these 
feet — the second of seven and a half (in effect two-thirds) — the third of 
eight — the fourth of seven and a half — the fifth the same — the sixth three 
and a half. Now, each of these lines, taken individually, has been employed 
before, and what originality the ' Raven' has, is in their combination into stanza; 
nothing even remotely approaching this combination has ever been attempted. 
The effect of this originality of combination is aided by other unusual, and some 
altogether novel effects, arising from an extension of the application of the 
principles of rhyme and alliteration." 

1. In order to obtain "artistic piquancy," he adopted the refrain. But, 
he says, "I resolved to diversify, and so heighten, the effect, by adhering, in 
general,' to the monotone of sound, while I continually varied that of thought ; 
that is to say, I determine to produce continuously novel effects, by the varia- 
tion of the application of the refrain — the refrain itself remaining, for the most 

part, unvaried." 

2. "I made the night tempestuous, first to account for the Raven's seek- 
ing admission, and secondly, for the effect of contrast with the (physical) 
serenity within the chamber." 

3. Deeming a close circumscription of space necessary for the effect aimed 
at, he determined " to place the lover in his chamber — in a chamber rendered 
sacred to him by memories of her who had frequented it. The room is repre- 
sented as richly furnished — this in mere pursuance of the ideas I have already 
explained on the subject of Beauty, as the sole true poetical thesis." 

4. "The locale being thus determined, I had now to introduce the bird 
— and the thought of introducing him through the window was inevitable. 
The idea of making the lover suppose, in the first instance, that the flapping of 
the wings of the bird against the shutter is a 'tapping' at the door, originated 
in a wish to increase, by prolonging, the reader's curiosity, and in a desire to 
admit the incidental effect arising from the lover's throwing open the door, 
finding all dark, and thence adopting the half-fancy that it was the spirit of his 
mistress that knocked." 

5. "About the middle of the poem, also, I have availed myself of the force 
of contrast, with a view of deepening the ultimate impression. For example, an 
air of the fantastic — approaching as neariy to the ludicrous as was admissible — 
is given to the Raven's entrance. He comes in * with many a flirt and flutter.' 
'Not the least obeisance made he — not a moment stopped or stayed he, 
But with thien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.' 
In the two stanzas which foUow, the design is more obviously carried out." 



498 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

6. "I made the bird alight on the bust of Pallas, also for the effect of con- 
trast between the marble and the plumage — it being understood that the bust 
was absolutely suggested by the bird — the bust of Pallas being chosen, first, as 
most in keeping with the scholarship of the lover, and, secondly, for the sonorous- 
ness of the word Pallas itself." 

7. When Poe had resolved upon the refrain, he had to decide upon the 
character of the word to be so used. That it must be sonorous, and susceptible 
of protracted emphasis, admitted no doubt ; "and" — thus continues the vera- 
cious narrative — " these considerations inevitably led me to the long as the 
most sonorous vowel, in connection with r as the most producible consonant. 

"The sound of the refrain being thus determined, it became necessary to 
select a word embodying this sound, and at the same time in the fullest possible 
keeping with that melancholy which I had predetermined as the tone of the 
poem. In such a search it would have been absolutely impossible to overlook 
the word 'Nevermore.' In fact, it was the very first which presented itself." 

The next desideratum was a pretext for the continuous use of the one word 
"nevermore." Its monotonous use by a human being would not, he thought, be 
readily reconciled with the exercise of reason. "Here, then, immediately 
arose the idea of a non-reasoning creature capable of speech ; and, very naturally, 
a parrot, in the first instance, suggested itself, but was superseded forthwith by 
a Raven, as equally capable of speech, and infinitely more in keeping with the 
intended tone.'^ 

8. "I had now to combine the two ideas, of a lover lamenting his deceased 
mistress, and a Raven continuously repeating the word 'Nevermore.' . . . 
And here it was that I saw at once the opportunity afforded for the effect on 
which I had been depending — that is to say, the effect of the variation of 
application. I saw that I could make the first query propounded by the lover — 
the first query, to which the Raven should reply ' Nevermore ' — a commonplace 
one — the second less so, — the third still less, and so on — until at length the 
lover, startled from his original nonchalance by the melancholy character of the 
word itself — by its frequent repetition — and by a consideration of the ominous 
reputation of the fowl that uttered it — is at length excited to superstition, and 
wildly propounds queries of a far different character, — queries whose solution 
he has passionately at heart — propounds them half in superstition and half in 
that species of despair which delights in self-torture — propounds them not 
altogether because he believes in the prophetic or demoniac character of the 
bird (which, reason assures him, is merely repeating a lesson learned by rote), 
but because he experiences a frenzied pleasure in so modelling his questions as 
to receive from the expected * Nevermore ' the most delicious because the most 
intolerable of sorrow. Perceiving the opportunity thus afforded me — or, more 
strictly, thus forced upon me in the progress of the construction — I first es- 
tablished in mind the climax, or concluding query — that query to which 



NOTES TO POE 499 

'Nevermore' should be in the last place an answer — that query in reply to 
which this word ' Nevermore ' should involve the utmost conceivable amount of 
sorrow and despair. 

"Here then the poem may be said to have its beginning — at the end, where 
all works of art should begin, for it was here, at this point of my pre-considera- 
tions, that I first put pen to paper in the composition of the stanza : — 

" * Prophet,' said I, * thing of evil ! prophet still, if bird or devil ! 

By that heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore,' etc. 

"I composed this stanza at this point, first, that, by establishing the climax, 
I might the better vary and graduate, as regards seriousness and importance, 
the preceding queries of the lover ; and secondly, that I might definitely settle 
the rhythm, the metre, and the length and general arrangement of the stanza — 
as well as graduate the stanzas which were to precede, so that none of them 
might surjjass this in rhythmical effect. " 

9. "It will be obser\'ed that the words 'from out my heart' involve the 
first metaphorical expression in the poem. They, with the answer 'Never- 
more,' dispose the mind to seek a Ynoral in all that has been previously narrated. 
The reader begins now to regard the Raven as emblematical — but it is not until 
the very last line of the very last stanza that the intention of making him em- 
blematical of Mournful and Never-ending Remembrance is permitted distinctly to 
be seen." 

10. It is almost ungrateful, at this point, to indicate any slight defects in 
the poem, such as the wretched rhymes in the sixth stanza, and the impossi- 
bility that the Raven's shadow should fall on the floor, as described in the last 
stanza. 

After reading the analysis Poe has given us of "The Raven," it is not sur- 
prising to learn that he regarded it as " the greatest poem that ever was written." 

The Masque of the Red Death 

For a characterization of Poe's genius as a writer of tales, see the preceding 
sketch. 

"The Masque of the Red Death" is one of his shorter tales. It illustrates 
both his constructive genius and his method in prose fiction. Like all his 
better work, it is wrought out with great care. 

In writing his stories, he always began, as he tells us, with the considera- 
tion of an ejfect to be produced; and he then contrived both incident and 
tone to that one end. Speaking of the literary artist, he says: "If his very 
initial sentence tend not to the outbringing of this effect, then he has failed in 
his first step. In the whole composition there should be no word written of 
which the tendency, direct or indirect, is not to the one pre-established design. 



500 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

And by such means, with such care and skill, a picture is at length painted which 
leaves in the mind of him who contemplates it with a kindred art, a sense of the 
fullest satisfaction." Without a clear understanding of Poe's principles and 
methods, as thus set forth, we shall not be able fully to appreciate the admirable 
art and genius of his work. 

1. This is the French form of the word, now commonly Anglicized into 
mask. 

2. This disease seems to be one of Poe's inventions. 

3. Now spelled avatar = incarnation. In Sanscrit the word means a descent, 
and is specially applied to the descent upon earth of a Hindu deity in a manifest 
shape. 

4. Pest ban = plague curse or interdiction. 

5. Castellated abbeys seem to be a reminiscence of Poe's sojourn in England. 
Such reminiscences frequently occur in his writings. 

6. Explain ingress and egress etymologically. 

7. Discriminate between contagion and infection. What is the etymology 
of contagion ? 

8. Explain improvisatori. From what language? 

9. Exact force of vista. 

10. Etymology and force of bizarre. It will be remembered that Poe 
was a good French scholar — a fact which he took no pains to conceal. He 
sometimes quoted German and Hebrew — languages that he did not under- 
stand. 

11. Etymology and meaning of candelabrum. 

12. What is a brazier? 

13. What is ebony, and why so called? 

14. Decora = outward proprieties. 

15. " Hernani'' is one of Victor Hugo's most popular dramas in the romantic 
style. It contains several fantastic scenes. 

16. In 1840 Poe published in Philadelphia a collection of his prose fiction 
with the title, "Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque." It is regarded as a 
happily descriptive title. Can you paraphrase it, and bring out his idea? 

17. Explain the phrase oiit-II eroded Herod. The reference is to Herod the 
Great, who obtained the title "King of Judea," 40 B.C. His long reign was 
stained with cruelties and atrocities of a character almost without parallel in 
history. "The lightest shade of suspicion sufficed as the ground for his whole- 
sale butcheries. Of these, the one with which we are best acquainted is the 
slaughter of the infants at Bethlehem." 

18. Mummers = maskers. 



SELECTION FROM EMERSON 501 



XI 

SELECTION FROM EMERSON 

ARTi 

Because the soul is progressive, it never quite repeats itself, but 
in every act attempts the production of a new and fairer whole. This 
appears in works both of the useful and fine arts,^ if we employ the 
popular distinction of works according to their aim either at use or 
beauty. Thus in our fine arts, not imitation, but creation,^ is the aim. 
In landscapes the painter should give the suggestion of a fairer crea- 
tion than we know. The details, the prose of nature, he should omit, 
and give us only the spirit and splendor. He should know that the 
landscape has beauty for his eye because it expresses a thought which 
is to him good : and this because the same power which sees through 
his eyes is seen in that spectacle ; * and he will come to value the ex- 
pression of nature and not nature itself, and so exalt in his copy the 
features that please him. He will give the gloom of gloom and the 
sunshine of sunshine. In a portrait he must inscribe the character 
and not the features, and must esteem the man who sits to him as him- 
self only an imperfect picture or likeness of the aspiring original within. 

What is that abridgment and selection we observe in all spiritual 
activity but itself the creative impulse? for it is the inlet of that 
higher illumination which teaches to convey a larger sense by simpler 
symbols. What is a man but nature's finer success in self-explica- 
tion? ^ What is a man but a finer and compacter landscape than the 
horizon figures; nature's eclecticism? and what is his speech, his love 
of painting, love of nature, but a still finer success? all the weary 
miles and tons of space and bulk left out, and the spirit or moral of it 
contracted into a musical word, or the most cunning stroke of the pencil ^? 

But the artist must employ the symbols in use in his day and nation 
to convey his enlarged sense to his fellow-men. Thus the new in art 
is always formed out of the old. The Genius of the Hour always sets 
his ineffaceable seal on the work and gives it an inexpressible charm 



502 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

for the imagination. As far as the spiritual character of the period 
overpowers the artist and finds expression in his work, so far it will 
always retain a certain grandeur, and will represent to future beholders 
the Unknown, the Inevitable, the Divine.'^ No man can quite exclude 
this element of Necessity from his labor. No man can quite emanci- 
pate himself from his age and country, or produce a model in which 
the education, the religion, the politics, usages, and arts of his times 
shall have no share. Though he were never so original, never so wil- 
ful and fantastic, he cannot wipe out of his work every trace of the 
thoughts amidst which it grew. The very avoidance betrays the 
usage he avoids. Above his will and out of his sight he is necessitated 
by the air he breathes and the idea on which he and his contemporaries 
live and toil, to share the manner of his times, without knowing what 
that manner is. Now that which is inevitable in the work has a higher 
charm than individual talent can ever give, inasmuch as the artist's 
pen or chisel seems to have been held and guided by a gigantic hand * 
to inscribe a line in the history of the human race. This circumstance 
gives a value to the Egyptian hieroglyphics, to the Indian, Chinese 
and Mexican idols, however gross and shapeless. They denote the 
height of the human soul in that hour, and were not fantastic, but sprung 
from a necessity as deep as the world. Shall I now add that the whole 
extant product of the plastic arts has herein its highest value, as history: 
as a stroke drawn in the portrait of that fate,^ perfect and beautiful, 
according to whose ordinations all beings advance to their beatitude? 

Thus, historically viewed, it has been the office of art to educate the 
perception of beauty. We are immersed in beauty,^'' but our eyes 
have no clear vision. It needs, by the exhibition of single traits, to 
assist and lead the dormant taste. We carve and paint, or we behold 
what is carved and painted, as students of the mystery of Form. The 
virtue of art lies in detachment, in sequestering one object from the 
embarrassing variety. Until one thing comes out from the connection 
of things, there can be enjoyment, contemplation, but no thought. 
Our happiness and unhappiness are unproductive. The infant lies in 
a pleasing trance, but his individual character and his practical power 
depend on his daily progress in the separation of things, and dealing 
with one at a time. Love and all the passions concentrate all exist- 
ence around a single form. It is the habit of certain minds to give 
an all-excluding fulness to the object, the thought, the word they 



SELECTION FROM EMERSON 503 

alight upon, and to make that for the time the deputy of the world. 
These are the artists, the orators, the leaders of society. The power 
to detach, and to magnify by detaching, is the essence of rhetoric in 
the hands of the orator and the poet. This rhetoric, or power to fix 
the momentary eminency of an object, so remarkable in Burke, in 
Byron, in Carlyle, — the painter and sculptor exhibit in color and in 
stone. The power depends on the depth of the artist's insight of that 
object he contemplates. For every object has its roots in central 
nature," and may of course be so exhibited to us to represent the world. 
Therefore each work of genius is the tyrant of the hour, and concen- 
trates attention on itself. For the time, it is the only thing worth 
naming, to do that, — be it a sonnet, an opera, a landscape, a statue, 
an oration, the plan of a temple, of a campaign, or of a voyage of dis- 
covery. Presently we pass to some other object, which rounds itself 
into a whole as did the first ; for example, a well-laid garden : and noth- 
ing seems worth doing but the laying out of gardens. I should think 
tire the best thing in the world, if I were not acquainted with air, and 
water, and earth. For it is the right and property of all natural ob- 
jects, of all genuine talents, of all native properties whatsoever, to be 
for their moment the top of the world. A squirrel leaping from bough 
to bough and making the wood but one wide tree for his pleasure, fills 
the eye not less than a lion, is beautiful, self-sufBcing, and stands then 
and there for nature. ^^ A good ballad draws my ear and heart whilst 
I listen, as much as an epic has done before. A dog, drawn by a mas- 
ter, or a litter of pigs, satisfies and is a reality not less than the frescoes 
of Angelo. From this succession of excellent objects learn we at last 
the immensity of the world, the opulence of human nature, w^hich 
can run out to infinitude in any direction. But I also learn that what 
astonished and fascinated me in the first work, astonished me in the 
second work also ; that excellence of all things is one. 

The office of painting and sculpture seems to be merely initial. 
The best pictures can easily tell us their last secret. The best pictures 
are rude draughts of a few of the miraculous dots and lines and dyes 
which make up the ever-changing "landscape with figures" amidst 
which we dwell. Painting seems to be to the eye what dancing is to 
the limbs. When that has educated the frame to self-possession, to 
nimbleness, to grace, the steps of the dancing-master are better for- 
gotten ; so painting teaches me the splendor of color and the expression 



504 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

of form, and as I see many pictures and higher genius in the art, I see 
the boundless opulence of the pencil, the indifferency in which the 
artist stands free to choose out of the possible forms. If he can draw 
every thing, why draw any thing? and then is my eye opened to the 
eternal picture which nature paints in the street, with moving men and 
children, beggars and fine ladies, draped in red and green and blue 
and gray; long-haired, grizzled, white-faced, black-faced, wrinkled, 
giant, dwarf, expanded, elfish, — capped and based by heaven, earth, 
and sea. ^' 

A gallery of sculpture teaches more austerely the same lesson. As 
picture teaches the coloring, so sculpture the anatomy of form. When 
I have seen fine statues and afterwards enter a public assembly, I un- 
derstand well what he meant who said, "When I have been reading 
Homer, all men look like giants." I too see that painting and sculp- 
ture are gymnastics of the eye, training to the niceties and curiosities 
of its function. There is no statue like this living man, with his in- 
finite advantage over all ideal sculpture, of perpetual variety. What 
a gallery of art have I here ! No mannerist made these varied groups 
and diverse original single figures. Here is the artist himself impro- 
vising, grim and glad, at his block. Now one thought strikes him, 
now another, and with each moment he alters the whole air, attitude, 
and expression of his clay. Away with your nonsense of oil and easels, 
of marble and chisels ; except to open your eyes to the witchcraft of 
eternal art, they are hypocritical rubbish. ^^ 

The reference of all production at last to an aboriginal Power ex- 
plains the traits common to all works of the highest art, that they are 
universally intelligible ; that they restore to us the simplest states 
of mind ; and are religious. Since what skill is therein shown is the 
reappearance of the original soul, a jet of pure light, it should produce 
a similar impression to that made by natural objects. In happy hours, 
nature appears to us one with art ; art perfected, — the work of genius. 
And the individual in whom simple tastes and susceptibility to all the 
great human influences overpower the accidents of a local and special 
culture, is the best critic of art.^^ Though we travel the world over to 
find the beautiful, we must carry it with us, or we find it not. The 
best of beauty is a finer charm than skill in surfaces, in outlines, or 
rules of art can ever teach, namely, a radiation from the work of art, of 
human character,^^ — a wonderful expression through stone, or canvas. 



SELECTION FROM EMERSON 505 

or musical sound, of the deepest and simplest attributes of our nature, 
and therefore most intelligible at last to those souls which have these 
attributes. In the sculptures of the Greeks, in the masonry of the 
Romans, and in the pictures of the Tuscan and Venetian masters, the 
highest charm is the universal language they speak. A confession of 
moral nature, of purity, love, and hope, breathes from them all. That 
which we carry to them, the same we bring back more fairly illustrated 
in the memory. The traveller who visits the Vatican and passes from 
chamber to chamber through galleries of statues, vases, sarcophagi, 
and candelabra, through all forms of beauty cut in the richest materials, 
is in danger of forgetting the simplicity of the principles out of which 
they all sprung, and that they had their origin from thoughts and laws 
in his own breast. He studies the technical rules on these wonderful 
remains, but forgets that these works were not always thus constel- 
lated ; that they are the contributions of many ages and many coun- 
tries ; that each came out of the solitary workshop of one artist, who 
toiled perhaps in ignorance of the existence of other sculpture, created 
his work without other model save life, household life, and the sweet 
and smart of personal relations, of beating hearts, and meeting eyes ; 
of poverty and necessity and hope and fear. These were his inspira- 
tions, and these are the effects he carries home to your heart and mind. 
In proportion to his force, the artist will find in his work an outlet for 
his proper character. He must not be in any manner pinched or hin- 
dered by his material, but through his necessity of imparting himself 
the adamant will be wax in his hands, and will allow an adequate com- 
munication of himself, in his full stature and proportion. Not a con- 
ventional nature and culture need he cumber himself with, nor ask 
what is the mode in Rome or in Paris, but that house and weather and 
manner of living which poverty and the fate of birth have made at once 
so odious and so dear, in the gray unpainted wood cabin, on the corner 
of a New Hampshire farm, or in the log hut of the backwoods, or in 
the narrow lodging where he has endured the constraints and seeming 
of a city poverty, — will serve as well as any other condition as the sym- 
bol of a thought which pours itself indifferently through all.*' 

I remember when in my younger days I had heard of the wonders 
of Italian painting, I fancied the great pictures would be great stran- 
gers ; some surprising combination of color and form ; a foreign won- 
der, barbaric pearl and gold, like the spontoons and standards of the 



5o6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

militia, which plays such pranks in the eyes and imaginations of school- 
boys. I was to see and acquire I knew not what. When I came at 
last to Rome and saw with eyes the pictures, I found that genius left 
to novices the gay and fantastic and ostentatious, and itself pierced 
directly to the simple and true ; that it was famihar and sincere ; that 
it was the old, eternal fact I had met already in so many forms ; unto 
which I had hved ; that it was the plain you and me I knew so well, 
— had left at home in so many conversations. I had the same experi- 
ence already in a church at Naples. There I saw that nothing was 
changed with me but the place, and said to myself, — ' Thou foohsh 
child, hast thou come out hither, over four thousand miles of salt water, 
to find that which was perfect to thee there at home ? ' — that fact 
I saw again in the Academmia at Naples, in the chambers of sculp- 
ture, and yet again when I came to Rome and to the paintings of Raphael, 
Angelo, Sacchi, Titian, and Leonardo da Vinci. ''What, old mole! 
workest thou in the earth so fast?" It had travelled by my side : that 
which I fancied I had left in Boston was here in the Vatican, and again 
at Milan and at Paris, and made all travelling ridiculous as a tread- 
mill.^^ I now require this of all pictures, that they domesticate me, not 
that they dazzle me. Pictures must not be too picturesque. Nothing 
astonishes men so much as common sense and plain deaHng. All great 
actions have been simple, and all great pictures are. 

The Transfiguration, by Raphael, is an eminent example of this 
peculiar merit. A calm benignant beauty shines over all this picture, 
and goes directly to the heart. It seems almost to call you by name. 
The sweet and subHme face of Jesus is beyond praise, yet how it dis- 
appoints all florid expectations! This familiar, simple, home-speaking 
countenance is as if one should meet a friend. The knowledge of pic- 
ture-dealers has its value, but listen not to their criticism when your 
heart is touched by genius. It was not painted for them, it was painted 
for you ; for such as had eyes capable of being touched by simplicity 
and lofty emotions. 

Yet when we have said all our fine things about the arts, we must 
end with a frank confession that the arts, as we know them, are but 
initial. Our best praise is given to what they aimed and promised, 
not to the actual result. He has conceived meanly of the resources of 
man, who believes that the best age of production is past. The real 
value of the Iliad or the Transfiguration is as signs of power ; billows 



SELECTION FROM EMERSON 507 

or ripples they are of the great stream of tendency ; tokens of the ever- 
lasting effort to produce, which even in its worst estate the soul be- 
trays. Art has not come to its maturity if it do not put itself abreast 
with the most potent influences of the world, if it is not practical and 
moral, if it do not stand in connection with the conscience, if it do not 
make the poor and uncultivated feel that it addresses them with a 
voice of lofty cheer. ^^ There is higher work for Art than the arts. 
They are abortive births of an imperfect or vitiated instinct. Art 
is the need to create ; but in its essence, immense and universal, it is 
impatient of working with lame or tired hands, and of making cripples 
and monsters, such as all pictures and statues are. Nothing less than 
the creation of man and nature is its end. A man should find in 
it an outlet for his whole energy. He may paint and carve only as 
long as he can do that. Art should exhilarate, and throw down the 
walls of circumstance on every side, awakening in the beholder the 
same sense of universal relation and power which the work evinced in 
the artist, and its highest effect is to make new artists. 

Already History is old enough to witness the old age and disap- 
pearance of particular arts. The art of sculpture is long ago perished 
to any real effect. It was originally an useful art, a mode of writing, a 
savage's record of gratitude or devotion, and among a people pos- 
sessed of a wonderful perception of form this childish carving was re- 
fined to the utmost splendor of effect. But it is the game of a rude 
and youthful people, and not the manly labor of a wise and spiritual 
nation. Under an oak-tree loaded with leaves and nuts, under a sky 
full of eternal eyes, I stand in a thoroughfare. Cut in the works of our 
plastic arts, and especially of sculpture, creation is driven into a cor- 
ner. I cannot hide from myself that there is a certain appearance of 
paltriness, as of toys and the trumpery of a theatre, in sculpture. Na- 
ture transcends all our moods of thought, and its secret we do not 
yet find. But the gallery stands at the mercy of our moods, and there 
is a moment when it becomes frivolous. I do not wonder that New- 
ton, with an attention habitually engaged on the paths of planets and 
suns, should have wondered what the Earl of Pembroke found to ad- 
mire in "stone dolls." Sculpture may serve to teach the pupil how 
deep is the secret of form, how purely the spirit can translate its mean- 
ings into that eloquent dialect. But the statue will look cold and false 
before that new activity which needs to roll through all things, and is 



5o8 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

impatient of counterfeits and things not alive. Picture and sculpture 
are the celebrations and festivities of form. But true art is never 
fixed, but always flowing. The sweetest music is not in the oratorio, 
but in the human voice when it speaks from its instant life tones of 
tenderness, truth, or courage. The oratorio has already lost its rela- 
tion to the morning, to the sun, and the earth, but that persuading 
voice is in tune with these. All works of art should not be detached, 
but extempore performances. A great man is a new statue in every 
attitude and action. A beautiful woman is a picture which drives all 
beholders nobly mad. Life may be lyric or epic, as well as a poem or 
a romance. 

A true announcement of the law of creation, if a man were found 
worthy to declare it, would carry art up into the kingdom of nature, 
and destroy its separate and contrasted existence. ^"^ The fountains of 
invention and beauty in modern society are all but dried up. A popu- 
lar novel, a theatre, or a ballroom makes us feel that we are all paupers 
in the almshouse of this world, without dignity, without skill or indus- 
try. Art is as poor and low. The old tragic Necessity, which lowers 
on the brows even of the Venuses and the Cupids of the antique, and 
furnishes the sole apology for the intrusion of such anomalous figures 
into nature, — namely, that they were inevitable ; that the artist was 
drunk with a passion for form which he could not resist, and which 
vented itself in these fine extravagances, — no longer dignifies the 
chisel or the pencil.^^ But the artist and the connoisseur now seek in 
art the exhibition of their talent, or an asylum from the evils of life. 
Men are not well pleased with the figure they make in their own im- 
aginations, and they flee to art, and convey their better sense in an 
oratorio, a statue, or a picture. Art makes the same effort which a 
sensual prosperity makes ; namely, to detach the beautiful from the 
useful, to do up the work as unavoidable, and, hating it, pass on to 
enjoyment. These solaces and compensations, this division of beauty 
from use, the laws of nature do not permit. As soon as beauty is sought, 
not from religion and love but for pleasure, it degrades the seeker. 
High beauty is no longer attainable by him in canvas or in stone, in 
sound, or in lyrical construction ; an effeminate, prudent, sickly beauty, 
which is not beauty, is all that can be formed ; for the hand can never 
execute anything higher than the character can inspire. 

The art that thus separates is itself first separated. Art must not 



SELECTION FROM EMERSON 509 

be a superficial talent, but must begin farther back in man. Now men 
do not see nature to be beautiful, and they go to make a statue which 
shall be. They abhor men as tasteless, dull, and inconvertible, and 
console themselves with color-bags and blocks of marble. They reject 
life as prosaic, and create a death which they call poetic. They despatch 
the day's weary chores, and fly to voluptuous reveries. They eat 
and drink, that they may afterwards execute the ideal. Thus is art 
vilified ; the name conveys to the mind its secondary and bad senses ; 
it stands in the imagination as somewhat contrary to nature, and struck 
with death from the first. Would it not be better to begin higher up, 
— to serve the ideal before they eat and drink ; to serve the ideal in 
eating and drinking, in drawing the breath, and in the functions of 
life? Beauty must come back to the useful arts, and the distinction 
between the fine and the useful arts be forgotten. If history were 
truly told, if life were nobly spent, it would be no longer easy or pos- 
sible to distinguish the one from the other. In nature, all is useful, 
all is beautiful. It is therefore beautiful because it is alive, moving, 
reproductive ; it is therefore useful because it is symmetrical and 
fair. Beauty will not come at the call of a legislature, nor will it repeat 
in England or America its history in Greece, It will come, as always, 
unannounced, and spring up between the feet of brave and earnest 
men.'^^ It is in vain that we look for genius to reiterate its miracles 
in the old arts ; it is its instinct to find beauty and holiness in new and 
necessary facts, in the field and roadside, in the shop and mill. Pro- 
ceeding from a religious heart it will raise to a divine use the railroad, 
the insurance office, the joint-stock company; our law, our primary 
assemblies, our commerce, the galvanic battery, the electric jar, the 
prism, and the chemist's retort ; in which we seek now only an econom- 
ical use. Is not the selfish and even cruel aspect which belongs to our 
great mechanical works, to mills, railways, and machinery, the efi"ect 
of the mercenary impulses which these works obey? When its errands 
are noble and adequate, a steamboat bridging the Atlantic between 
Old and New England, and arriving at its ports with the punctuality 
of a planet, — is a step of man into harmony with nature. The boat 
at St. Petersburg, which plies along the Lena by magnetism, needs little 
to make it sublime. When science is learned in love, and its powers 
are wielded by love, they will appear the supplements and continua- 
tions of the material creation. 



5IO AMERICAN LITERATURE 



NOTES TO EMERSON 

The essay on "Art" is taken from the first volume of "Essays." For a 
general introduction, read the preceding sketch. A more exact title would 
be "Some Thoughts on Art." In "Society and Solitude" Emerson published 
a second essay on "Art," from which most of the following notes are taken. 

1. The following are Emerson's definitions of art : "The conscious utterance 
of thought, by speech or action, to any end, is Art." "Art is the spirit's volun- 
tary use and combination of things to serve its end." "Art, universally, is the 
spirit creative." 

2. "The useful arts comprehend not only those that lie next to instinct, 
as agriculture, building, weaving, etc., but also navigation, practical chemistry, 
and the construction of all the grand and delicate tools and instruments by 
which man serves himself; as language, the watch, the ship, the decimal cipher 
and also the sciences, as far as they are made serviceable to political economy." 

"Music, Eloquence, Poetry, Painting, Sculpture, Architecture. This is 
a rough enumeration of the Fine Arts." 

3. "The facts of nature, to possess a serious interest for us upon canvas, 
require to be heated with poetic fire, transfused, and newly wrought in the 
crucible of the painter's mind." — Van Dyke, Art for Art's Sake. 

4. Here we have Emerson's idealism: "There is but one Reason. The 
mind that made the world is not one mind, but the mind. Every man is an 
inlet to the same, and to all of the same." All nature, as a manifestation of 
the infinite Spirit, is full of meaning. 

5. This means that man is the crowning point, toward which nature has 
been climbing through all lower beings, whether animate or inanimate. 

6. The fine arts are the summit of man's attainment, as he himself is the 
summit of nature's attainment. 

7. "The Gothic cathedrals were built when the builder and the priest and 
the people were overpowered by their faith. Love and fear laid every stone. 
The Madonnas of Raphael and Titian were made to be worshipped." In 
"The Problem" the same idea is beautifully expressed : — 

"The hand that rounded Peter's dome 
And groined the aisles of Christian Rome 
Wrought in a sad sincerity ; 
Himself from God he could not free; 
He builded better than he knew : — 
The conscious stone to beauty grew." 



NOTES TO EMERSON 51 1 

8. This, of course, is the universal Spirit, which pervades and moves all 
things ; whose gradual unfolding in nature is the source of all history. 

9. Emerson means by fate "the invincible order and unity of the world 
of spirit, that its methods are perfect and invariable; that justice can never 
be violated; that the truth is always the same, and always faithful to itself." — 
Cooke. 

10. " Beauty in its largest and profoundest sense is one expression for the 
universe ; God in the all-fair. Truth and goodness and beauty are but different 
faces of the same All. But beauty in nature is not ultimate. It is the herald of 
inward and eternal beauty." 

11. As a product of the universal Spirit, whose character is reflected alike 
in great and small. "The true doctrine of the omnipresence is, that God re- 
appears with all his parts in every moss and cobweb. The value of the universe 
contrives to throw itself into every point." In "Blight" Emerson says: — 

"If I know 
Only the herbs and simples of the wood, 

O, that were much, and I could be a part 
Of the round day, related to the sun 
And planted world." 

Compare Tennyson's — 

"Flower in the crannied wall." 

12. Similarly in Emerson's "Fable" : — 

"The mountain and the squirrel 
Had a quarrel. 

And the former called the latter 'Little Prig; * 
Bun replied, 

' You are doubtless very big ; 
But all sorts of things and weather 
Must be taken in together, 
To make up a year, 
And a sphere. 
And I think it no disgrace 
To occupy my place. 
If I'm not so large as you, 
You are not so small as I, 
And not half so spry. 
I'll not deny you make 
A very pretty squirrel track ; 



512 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Talents differ ; all is well and wisely put ; 
If I cannot carry forests on my back, 
Neither can you crack a nut.'" 

13. " 'Tis the privilege of Art 

Thus to play its cheerful part, 
]\Ian on earth to acclimate 
And bend the exile to his fate, 
And, moulded of one element 
With the days and firmament, 
Teach him on these stairs to climb, 
And live on even terms with Time ; 
Whilst upper life the slender rill 
Of human sense doth overfill." 

14. The highest end of human art is to teach man to appreciate the beauty 
of "eternal art" in the world about us. 

15. "The universal Soul is the alone creator of the useful and the beau- 
tiful ; therefore, to make anything useful or beautiful, the individual must be 
submitted to the universal Mind." 

16. In the poem "Destiny," Emerson says : — 

"You must add the untaught strain 
That sheds beauty on the rose. 
There is a melody born of melody, 
Which melts the world into a sea. 
Toil could never compass it ; 
Art its height could never hit ; 
But a music music-bom 
Well may Jove and Juno scorn." 

17. "To attain sublimity in painting, the thought must be so all-absorbing 
that it overawes form; it must carry us away with its sudden revelation of 
might ; it must present to us the individual strength of its producer so vividly 
that in its contemplation we forget the forms of the picture." — Van Dyke, 
Art for Art's Sake. 

18. In "The Day's Ration," Emerson says: — 

"Why seek Italy, 
Who cannot circunmavigate the sea 
Of thoughts and things at home, but still adjourn 
The nearest matters for a thousand days." 



NOTES TO EMERSON 513 

19. "Proceeding from absolute mind, whose nature is goodness as much as 
truth, the great works are always attuned to moral nature. If the earth and sea 
conspire with virtue more than vice, — so do the masterpieces of art." 

20. "We feel in seeing a noble building which rhymes well, as we do in 
hearing a perfect song, that it is spiritually organic ; that it had a necessity in 
nature for being; was one of the possible forms in the Divine Mind, and is 
now only discovered and executed by the artist, not arbitrarily composed by 
him. And so every genuine work of art has as much reason for being as the 
earth and the sun." In "The Problem" we have the same thought again : — 

" Earth proudly wears the Parthenon, 
As the best gem upon her zone, 
And Morning opes with haste her lids 
To gaze upon the Pyramids ; 
O'er England's abbeys bends the sky, 
As on its friends, with kindred eye ; 
For out of Thought's interior sphere 
These wonders rose to upper air ; 
And Nature gladly gave them place, 
Adopted them into her race. 
And granted them an equal date 
With Andes and with Ararat." 

21. "Arising out of eternal Reason, one and perfect, whatever is beautiful 
rests on the foundation of the necessary. Nothing is arbitrary, nothing is 
insulated in beauty. It depends forever on the necessary and the useful." 

22. "Beauty, truth, and goodness are not obsolete; they spring eternal 
in the breast of man ; they are as indigenous in Massachusetts as in Tuscany 
or the Isles of Greece, And that eternal Spirit, whose triple face they are, 
moulds from them forever, for his mortal child, images to remind him of the 
Infinite and Fair." 



514 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



XII 
SELECTIONS FROM HAWTHORNE 

THE GRAY CHAMPION 

There was once a time when New England groaned under the 
actual pressure of heavier wrongs than those threatened ones which 
brought on the Revolution. James II., the bigoted successor of Charles 
the Voluptuous, had annulled the charters ^ of all the colonies, and 
sent a harsh and unprincipled soldier to take away our liberties and 
endanger our religion. The administration of Sir Edmund Andros 
lacked scarcely a single characteristic of tyranny : ^ a Governor and 
Council, holding ofhce from the King, and wholly independent of the 
country ; laws made and taxes levied without concurrence of the people, 
immediate or by their representatives ; the rights of private citizens 
violated, and the titles of all landed property declared void ; the voice 
of complaint stifled by restrictions on the press ; and, finally, disaffec- 
tion overawed by the first band of mercenary troops that ever marched 
on our free soil. For two years our ancestors were kept in sullen sub- 
mission, by that filial love which had invariably secured their allegiance 
to the mother-country, whether its head chanced to be a Parliament, 
Protector, or popish Monarch. Till these evil times, however, such 
allegiance had been merely nominal, and the colonists had ruled them- 
selves, enjoying far more freedom than is even yet the privilege of the 
native subjects of Great Britain. 

At length a rumor reached our shores that the Prince of Orange ^ 
had ventured on an enterprise the success of which would be the tri- 
umph of civil and religious rights and the salvation of New England. 
It was but a doubtful whisper ; it might be false, or the attempt might 
fail ; and, in either case, the man that stirred against King James would 
lose his head. Still the inteUigence produced a marked efifect. The 
people smiled mysteriously in the streets, and threw bold glances at 
their oppressors; while far and wide there was a subdued and silent 



SELECTIONS FROM HAWTHORNE 515 

agitation, as if the slightest signal would rouse the whole land from its 
sluggish despondency. Aware of their danger, the rulers resolved to 
avert it by an imposing display of strength, and perhaps to confirm 
their despotism by yet harsher measures. One afternoon in April, 
1689, Sir Edmund x\ndros and his favorite councillors, being warm 
with wine, assembled the red-coats of the Governor's Guard, and made 
their appearance in the streets of Boston. The sun was near setting 
when the march commenced.^ 

The roll of the drum, at that unquiet crisis, seemed to go through 
the streets less as the martial music of the soldiers than as a muster- 
call to the inhabitants themselves. A multitude, by various avenues, 
.assembled in King-street, which was destined to be the scene, nearly 
a century afterwards,^ of another encounter between the troops of Brit- 
ain and a people struggling against her tyranny. Though more than 
sixty years had elapsed since the Pilgrims came, this crowd of their 
descendants still showed the strong and sombre features of their char- 
acter, perhaps more strikingly in such a stern emergency than on hap- 
pier occasions. There were the sober garb, the general severity of 
mien, the gloomy but undismayed expression, the scriptural forms of 
speech, and the confidence in Heaven's blessing on a righteous cause, 
which would have marked a band of the original Puritans when threat- 
ened by some peril of the wilderness. Indeed, it was not yet time for 
the old spirit to be extinct ; since there were men in the street, that 
day, who had worshipped there beneath the trees, before a house was 
reared to the God for whom they had become exiles. Old soldiers of 
the Parliament ^ were here too, smiling grimly at the thought that their 
aged arm^N^night strike another blow against the house of Stuart. Here, 
also, were the veterans of King Philip's war,^ who had burned villages 
and slaughtered young and old with pious fierceness, while the godly 
souls throughout the land were helping them with prayer. Several 
ministers were scattered among the crowd, which, unlike all other 
mobs, regarded them with such reverence, as if there were sanctity 
in their very garments. These holy men exerted their influence to 
quiet the people, but not to disperse them. Meantime, the purpose 
of the Governor, in disturbing the peace of the town at a period when 
the slightest commotion might throw the country into a ferment, was 
almost the universal subject of inquiry, and variously explaine'd. 

"Satan will strike his master-stroke presently," cried some, "be- 



5l6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

cause he knoweth that his time is short. All our godly pastors are to 
be dragged to prison ! We shall see them at a Smithfield ^ fire in King- 
street!" 

Hereupon, the people of each parish gathered closer round their 
minister, who looked calmly upwards and assumed a more apostoHc 
dignity, as well befitted a candidate for the highest honor of his pro- 
fession, the crown of martyrdom. It was actually fancied, at that 
period, that New England might have a John' Rogers ^ of her own, to 
take the place of that worthy in the Primer. ^° 

**The Pope of Rome has given orders for a new St. Bartholomew ! " " 
cried others. ''We are to be massacred, man and male child!" 

Neither was this rumor wholly discredited, although the wiser class 
believed the Governor's object somewhat less atrocious. His prede- 
cessor under the old charter, Bradstreet,^^ a venerable companion of 
the first settlers, was known to be in town. There were grounds for 
conjecturing that Sir Edmund Andros intended, at once, to strike 
terror, by a parade of military force, and to confound the opposite fac- 
tion, by possessing himself of their chief. 

"Stand firm for the old charter Governor!" shouted the crowd, 
seizing upon the idea. "The good old Governor Bradstreet!" 

While this cry was at the loudest, the people were surprised by the 
well-known figure of Governor Bradstreet himself, a patriarch of nearly 
ninety, who appeared on the elevated steps of a door, and, with char- 
acteristic mildness, besought them to submit to the constituted au- 
thorities. 

"My children," concluded this venerable person, "do nothing 
rashly. Cry not aloud, but pray for the welfare of New England, and 
expect patiently what the Lord will do in this matter ! " 

The event was soon to be decided. All this time, the roll of the 
drum had been approaching through Cornhill, louder and deeper, till 
with reverberations from house to house, and the regular tramp of 
martial footsteps, it burst into the street. A double rank of soldiers 
made their appearance, occupying the whole breadth of the passage, 
with shouldered matchlocks,^^ and matches burning, so as to present 
a row of fires in the dusk. Their steady march was like the progress 
of a machine that would roll irresistibly over everything in its way. 
Next, moving slowly, with a confused clatter of hoofs on the pavement, 
rode a party of mounted gentlemen, the central figure being Sir Ed- 



SELECTIONS FROM HAWTHORNE 51 7 

mund Andros, elderly, but erect and soldier-like. Those around him 
were his favorite councillors, and the bitterest foes of New England. 
At his right hand rode Edward Randolph, our arch-enemy, that 
*' blasted wretch," as Cotton Mather calls him, who achieved the down- 
fall of our ancient government, and was followed with a sensible curse, 
through life and to his grave. On the other side was Bullivant, scat- 
tering jests and mockery as he rode along. Dudley came behind, with 
a downcast look, dreading, as well he might, to meet the indignant 
gaze of the people, who beheld him, their only countryman by birth, 
among the oppressors of his native land. The captain of a frigate in 
the harbor, and two or three civil officers under the Crown, were also 
there. But the figure which most attracted the public eye, and stirred 
up the deepest feeling, was the Episcopal clergyman of King's Chapel, 
riding haughtily among the magistrates in his priestly vestments, the 
fitting representative of prelacy and persecution, the union of church 
and state, and all those abominations which had driven the Puritans 
to the wilderness.^* Another guard of soldiers, in double rank, brought 
up the rear. 

The whole scene was a picture of the condition of New England ; 
and its moral, the deformity of any government that does not grow 
out of the nature of things and the character of the people. On one 
side, the religious multitude, with their sad visages and dark attire: 
and on the other, the group of despotic rulers, with the high-churchman 
i^Kthe midst, and here and there a crucifix at their bosoms, all magnifi- 
cently~^iad,,_flushed with wine, proud of unjust authority, and scoffing 
at the universal groan. And the mercenary soldiers, waiting but the 
word to deluge the street with blood, showed the only means by which 
obedience could be secured. 

"O Lord of Hosts," cried a voice among the crowd, "provide a 
Champion for thy people !" 

This ejaculation was loudly uttered, and served as a herald's cry, to 
introduce a remarkable personage. The crowd had rolled back, and 
were now huddled together nearly at the extremity of the street, while 
the soldiers had advanced no more than a third of its length. The 
intervening space was empty — a paved solitude, between lofty edifices 
which threw almost a twilight shadow over it. Suddenly there was 
seen the figure of an ancient man, who seemed to have emerged from 
among the people, and was walking by himself along the centre of the 



5l8 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

street, to confront the armed band. He wore the old Puritan dress, a 
dark cloak and a steeple-crowned hat, in the fashion of at least fifty 
years before, with a heavy sword upon his thigh, but a staff in his hand, 
to assist the tremulous gait of age.^^ 

When at some distance from the multitude, the old man turned 
slowly round, displaying a face of antique majesty, rendered doubly 
venerable by the hoary beard that descended on his breast. He made 
a gesture at once of encouragement and warning, then turned again 
and resumed his way. 

"Who is this gray patriarch?" asked the young men of their sires. 

"Who is this venerable brother?" asked the old men among them- 
selves. 

But none could make reply. The fathers of the people, those of 
fourscore years and upwards, were disturbed, deeming it strange that 
they should forget one of such evident authority, whom they must 
have known in their early days, the associate of Winthrop,^^ and all 
the old Councillors, giving laws, and making prayers, and leading 
them against the savage. The elderly men ought to have remembered 
him, too, with locks as gray in their youth as their own were now. And 
the young ! How could he have passed so utterly from their memories 
— that hoary sire, the relic of long-departed times, whose awful bene- 
diction had surely been bestowed on their uncovered heads in child- 
hood? 

"Whence did he come? What is his purpose? Who can this 
old man be ? " whispered the wondering crowd. 

Meanwhile, the venerable stranger, staff in hand, was pursuing his 
solitary walk along the centre of the street. As he drew near the ad- 
vancing soldiers, and as the roll of their drum came full upon his ear, 
the old man raised himself to a loftier mien, while the decrepitude 
of age seemed to fall from his shoulders, leaving him in gray but un- 
broken dignity. Now he marched onward with a warrior's step, keep- 
ing time to the military music. Thus the aged form advanced on one 
side, and the whole parade of soldiers and magistrates on the other, 
till, when scarcely twenty yards remained between, the old man grasped 
his staff by the middle, and held it before him like a leader's truncheon. 

"Stand!" cried he. 

The eye, the face, and attitude of command ; the solemn yet war- 
like peal of that voice, fit either to rule a host in the battle-field or be 



SELECTIONS FROM HAWTHORNE 519 

raised to God in prayer, were irresistible. At the old man's word and 
outstretched arm, the roll of the drum was hushed at once, and the 
advancing line stood still. \ tremulous enthusiasm seized upon the 
multitude. That stately form, combining the leader and the saint, so 
gray, so dimly seen, in such an ancient garb, could only belong to some 
old champion of the righteous cause, whom the oppressor's drum had 
summoned from his grave. They raised a shout of awe and exultation, 
and looked for the deliverance of New England. 

The Governor, and the gentlemen of his party, perceiving them- 
selves brought to an unexpected stand, rode hastily forward, as if they 
would have pressed their snorting and affrighted horses right against the 
hoary apparition. He, however, blenched not a step, but glancing his 
severe eye round the group, which half encompassed him, at last bent 
it sternly on Sir Edmund Andros. One would have thought that the 
dark old man was chief ruler there, and that the Governor and Coun- 
cil, with soldiers at their back, representing the whole power and author- 
ity of the Crown, had no alternative but obedience. 

"What does this old fellow here?" cried Edward Randolph, fiercely. 
"On, Sir Edmund! Bid the soldiers forward, and give the dotard the 
same choice that you give all his countrymen — to stand aside or be 
trampled on ! " 

"Nay, nay, let us show respect to the good grandsire," said Bulli- 

0/ant, laughing. "See you not, he is some old round-headed dignitary 

who hath lain asleep these thirty years and knows nothing of the change 

of timesT^H&Qubtless, he thinks to put us down with a proclamation in 

Old Noll's 17 name!" 

"Are you mad, old man?" demanded Sir Edmund Andros, in loud 
and harsh tones. "How dare you stay the march of King James's 
Governor?" 

"I have staid the march of a King himself, ere now," replied the 
gray figure, with stern composure, 

"I am here. Sir Governor, because the cry of an oppressed people 
hath disturbed me in my secret place ; and beseeching this favor ear- 
nestly of the Lord, it was vouchsafed me to appear once again on earth, 
in the good old cause of his saints. And what speak ye of James? 
There is no longer a popish tyrant on the throne of England, and by 
to-morrow noon his name shall be a by-word in this very street where 
ye would make it a word of terror. Back, thou that wast a Governor, 



520 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

back ! With this night thy power is ended — to-morrow, the prison ! 
— back, lest I foretell the scaffold!" 

The people had been drawing nearer and nearer, and drinking in 
the words of their champion, who spoke in accents long disused, like 
one unaccustomed to converse, except with the dead of many years 
ago. But his voice stirred their souls. They confronted the soldiers, 
not wholly without arms, and ready to convert the very stones of the 
street into deadly weapons. Sir Edmund Andros looked at the old 
man; then he cast his hard and cruel eye over the multitude, and be- 
held them burning with that lurid wrath, so difficult to kindle or to 
quench ; and again he fixed his gaze on the aged form, which stood 
obscurely in an open space, where neither friend nor foe had thrust 
himself. What were his thoughts, he uttered no word which might 
discover. But whether the oppressor were overawed by the Gray 
Champion's look, or perceived his peril in the threatening attitude of 
the people, it is certain that he gave back, and ordered his soldiers to 
commence a slow and guarded retreat. Before another sunset, the 
Governor, and all that rode so proudly with him, were prisoners, and 
long ere it was known that James had abdicated, King William was 
proclaimed throughout New England. 

But where was the Gray Champion? Some reported that when 
the troops had gone from King-street and the people were thronging 
tumultuously in their rear, Bradstreet, the aged Governor, was seen to 
embrace a form more aged than his own. Others soberly affirmed 
that while they marvelled at the venerable grandeur of his aspect, the 
old man had faded from their eyes, melting slowly into the hues of 
twilight, till, where he stood, there was an empty space. But all agreed 
that the hoary shape was gone. The men of that generation watched 
for his reappearance, in sunshine and in twilight, but never saw him 
more, nor knew when his funeral passed, nor where his gravestone was. 

And who was the Gray Champion? Perhaps his name might be 
found in the records of that stern Court of Justice which passed a sen- 
tence too mighty for the age, but glorious in all after-times for its hum- 
bling lesson to the monarch and its high example to the subject. I have 
heard that whenever the descendants of the Puritans are to show the 
spirit of their sires, the old man appears again. When eighty years 
had passed, he walked once more in King street. Five years later, 
in the twilight of an April morning, he stood on the green, beside the 



SELECTIOSS FROM HAWTHORNE 521 

meeting-house, at Lexington, where now the obelisk of granite, with 
a slab of slate inlaid, commemorates the first fallen of the Revolution. 
And when our fathers were toiUng at the breastwork on Bunker's Hill, 
all through that night the old warrior walked his rounds. Long, long 
may it be ere he comes again ! His hour is one of darkness, and adver- 
sity, and peril. But should domestic tyranny oppress us, or the in- 
vader's step pollute our soil, still may the Gray Champion come : for 
he is the type of New England's hereditary spirit,'^ and his shadowy 
march, on the eve of danger, must ever be the pledge that New England's 
sons will vindicate their ancestry. 



FANCY'S SHOW-BOX 

A Morality 

What is Guilt? A stain upon the soul. And it is a point of vast 
interest, whether the soul may contract such stains, in all their depth 
and flagrancy, from deeds which may have been plotted and resolved 
upon, but which, physically, have never had existence. Must the 
fleshly hand and visible frame of man set its seal to the evil designs 
of the soul, in order to give them their entire vaHdity against the sin- 
ner? Or, while none but crimes perpetrated are cognizable before an 
.earthly tribunal, will guilty thoughts — of which guilty deeds are no 
more than shadows — will these draw down the full weight of a con- 
demning sentbqce in the supreme court of eternity? In the solitude 
of a midnight chamber, or in a desert, afar from men, or in a church, 
while the body is kneeling, the soul may pollute itself even with those 
crimes which we are accustomed to deem altogether carnal. If this 
be true, it is a fearful truth. 

Let us illustrate the subject by an imaginary example. A venerable 
gentleman, one Mr. Smith, who had long been regarded as a pattern 
of moral excellence, was warming his aged blood with a glass or two 
of generous ^vine. His children being gone forth about their worldly 
business, and his grandchildren at school, he sat alone in a deep, lux- 
urious armchair with his feet beneath a richly carved mahogany table. 
Some old people have a dread of solitude, and when better company 
may not be had, rejoice even to hear the quiet breathing of a babe, 
asleep upon the carpet. But Mr. Smith, whose silver hair was the 



522 . AMERICAN LITERATURE 

bright symbol of a life unstained, except by such spots as are insepa- 
rable from human nature, had no need of a babe to protect him by its 
purity, nor of a grown person to stand between him and his own soul. 
Nevertheless, either Manhood must converse with Age, or Womanhood 
must soothe him with gentle cares, or Infancy must sport around his 
chair, or his thoughts will stray into the misty region of the past, and 
the old man be chill and sad. Wine will not always cheer him. Such 
might have been the case with Mr. Smith, when, through the brilliant 
medium of his glass of old Madeira, he beheld three figures entering 
the room. These were Fancy, who had assumed the garb and aspect 
of an itinerant showman, with a box of picture? on her back ; and 
Memory, in the likeness of a clerk, with a pen behind her ear, an ink- 
horn at her buttonhole, and a huge manuscript volume beneath her 
arm ; and lastly, behind the other two, a person shrouded in a dusky 
mantle which concealed both face and form. But Mr. Smith had a 
shrewd idea that it was Conscience. 

How kind of Fancy, Memory, and Conscience to visit the old gen- 
tleman, just as he was beginning to imagine that the wine had neither 
so bright a sparkle nor so excellent a flavor as when himself and the 
liquor were less aged ! Through the dim length of the apartment, where 
crimson curtains muffled the glare of sunshine and created a rich ob- 
scurity, the three guests drew near the silver-haired old man. Mem- 
ory, with a finger between the leaves of her huge volume, placed her- 
self at his right hand. Conscience, with her face still hidden in the 
dusky mantle, took her station on the left, so as to be next his heart; 
while Fancy set down her picture-box upon the table, with the magni- 
fying-glass convenient to his eye. We can sketch merely the out- 
lines of two or three out of the many pictures which, at the pulling 
of a string, successively peopled the box with the semblances of 
living scenes. 

One was a moonlight picture; in the background, a lowly dwelling; 
and in front, partly shadowed by a tree, yet besprinkled with flakes of 
radiance, two youthful figures, male and female! The young man stood 
with folded arms, a haughty smile upon his lip, and a gleam of triumph 
in his eye, as he glanced downward at the kneeling girl. She was al- 
most prostrate at his feet, evidently sinking under a weight of shame 
and anguish, which hardly allowed her to lift her clasped hands in sup- 
plication. Her eyes she could not lift. But neither her agony, nor 



SELECTIONS FROM HAWTHORNE 523 

the lovely features on which it was depicted, nor the slender grace of 
the form which it convulsed, appeared to soften the obduracy of the 
young man. He was the personification of triumphant scorn. Now, 
strange to say, as old Mr. Smith peeped through the magnifying-glass, 
which made the objects start out from the canvas with magical decep- 
tion, he began to recognize the farm-house, the tree, and both the 
figures of the picture. The young man, in times long past, had often 
met his gaze within the looking-glass ; the girl was the very image of 
his first love — his cottage-love — his Martha Burroughs ! Mr. Smith 
was scandalized. "Oh, vile and slanderous picture!" he exclaims. 
"When have I triumphed over ruined innocence? Was not Martha 
wedded in her teens to David Tompkins, who won her girlish love, 
and long enjoyed her affection as a wife? And ever since his death, 
she has lived a reputable widow!" Meantime, Memory was turning 
over the leaves of her volume, rustling them to and fro with uncertain 
fingers, until, among the earlier pages, she found one which had refer- 
ence to this picture. She reads it, close to the old gentleman's ear; 
it is a record merely of sinful thought, which never was embodied in 
an act ; but, while Memory is reading, Conscience unveils her face, 
and strikes a dagger to the heart of Mr. Smith. Though not a death- 
blow, the torture was extreme. 

The exhibition proceeded. One after another, Fancy displayed 
pictures, all of which appeared to have been painted by some mali- 
cious artisV-£Ui_purpose to vex Mr. Smith. Not a shadow of proof 
could have been adduced, in any earthly court, that he was guilty of 
the slightest of those sins which were thus made to stare him in the 
face. In one scene, there was a table set out, with several bottles, 
and glasses half filled with wine, which threw back the dull ray of an 
expiring lamp. There had been mirth and revelry, until the hand of 
the clock stood just at midnight, when Murder stepped between the 
boon companions. A young man had fallen on the floor, and lay stone 
dead, with a ghastly wound crushed into his temple, while over him, 
with a delirium of mingled rage and horror in his countenance, stood 
the youthful likeness of Mr. Smith. The murdered youth wore the 
features of Edward Spencer! "What does this rascal of a painter 
mean?" cries Mr. Smith, provoked beyond all patience. "Edward 
Spencer was my earliest and dearest friend, true to me as I to him, 
through more than half a century. Neither I, nor any other, ever 



524 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

murdered him. Was he not aHve within five years, and did he not, 
in token of our long friendship, bequeath me his gold-headed cane, 
and a mourning ring?" Again had Memory been turning over her 
volume, and fixed at length upon so confused a page, that she surely 
must have scribbled it when she was tipsy. The purport was, however, 
that, while Mr. Smith and Edward Spencer were heating their young 
blood with wine, a quarrel had flashed up between them, and Mr. Smith, 
in deadly wrath, had flung a bottle at Spencer's head. True, it 
missed its aim, and merely smashed a looking-glass ; and the next 
morning, when the incident was imperfectly remembered, they had 
shaken hands with a hearty laugh. Yet, again, while Memory was 
reading. Conscience unveiled her face, struck a dagger to the heart of 
Mr. Smith, and quelled his remonstrance with her iron frown. The 
pain was quite excruciating. 

Some of the pictures had been painted with so doubtful a touch, 
and in colors so faint and pale, that the subjects could barely be con- 
jectured. A dull, semi-transparent mist had been thrown over the 
surface of the canvas, into which the figures seemed to vanish, while 
the eye sought most earnestly to fix them. But in every scene, how- 
ever dubiously portrayed, Mr. Smith was invariably haunted by his 
own lineaments, at various ages, as in a dusty mirror. After poring 
several minutes over one of these blurred and almost indistinguishable 
pictures, he began to see that the painter had intended to represent 
him, now in the decline of life, as stripping the clothes from the backs 
of three half-starved children. "Really, this puzzles me!" quoth Mr. 
Smith, with the irony of conscious rectitude. "Asking pardon of the 
painter, I pronounce him a fool, as well as a scandalous knave. A 
man of my standing in the world, to be robbing little children of their 
clothes! Ridiculous!" But while he spoke. Memory had searched 
her fatal volume, and found a page, which, with her sad, calm voice, 
she poured into his ear. It was not altogether inapplicable to the 
misty scene. It told how Mr. Smith had been grievously tempted, by 
many devilish sophistries, on the ground of a legal quibble, to com- 
mence a lawsuit against three orphan children, joint heirs to a consid- 
erable estate. Fortunately, before he was quite decided, his claims 
had turned out nearly as devoid of law as of justice. As Memory 
ceased to read, Conscience again thrust aside her mantle, and would 
have struck her victim with the envenomed dagger, only that he strug- 



SELECTIONS FROM HAWTHORNE 525 

gled, and clasped his hands before his heart. Even then, however, 
he sustained an ugly gash. 

Why should we follow Fancy through the whole series of those 
awful pictures? Painted by an artist of wondrous power, and terrible 
acquaintance with the secret soul, they embodied the ghosts of all the 
never-perpetrated sins that had glided through the lifetime of Mr. 
Smith. And could such beings of cloudy fantasy, so near akin to noth- 
ingness, give valid evidence against him, at the day of judgment ? 
Be that the case or not, there is reason to beUeve, that one truly pen- 
itential tear would have washed away each hateful picture, and left 
the canvas white as snow. But Mr. Smith, at a prick of Conscience 
too keen to be endured, bellowed aloud, with impatient agony, and 
suddenly discovered that his three guests were gone. There he sat 
alone, a silver-haired and highly venerated old man, in the rich gloom 
of the crimson-curtained room, with no box of pictures on the table, 
but only a decanter of most excellent Madeira. Yet his heart still 
seemed to fester with the venom of the dagger. 

Nevertheless, the unfortunate old gentleman might have argued 
the matter with Conscience, and alleged many reasons wherefore she 
should not smite him so pitilessly. Were we to take up his cause, it 
should be somewhat in the following fashion. A scheme of guilt, till 
it be put in execution, greatly resembles a train of incidents in a pro- 
jected tale. — Xhejatter, in order to produce a sense of reality in the 
reader's mind, must be conceived with such proportionate strength by 
the author as to seem, in the glow of fancy, more like truth, past, pres- 
ent, or to come, than purely fiction. The prospective sinner, on the 
other hand, weaves his plot of crime, but seldom or never feels a per- 
fect certainty that it wiU be executed. There is a dreaminess dif- 
fused about his thoughts ; in a dream, as it were, he strikes the death- 
blow into his victim's heart, and starts to find an indelible blood stain 
on his hand. Thus a novel-writer, or a dramatist, in creating a villain 
of romance, and fitting him with evil deeds, and the villain of actual 
life, in projecting crimes that will be perpetrated, may almost meet 
each other half-way between reality and fancy. It is not until the 
crime is accomplished that guilt clenches its gripe upon the guilty 
heart and claims it for its own. Then, and not before, sin is actually 
felt and acknowledged, and, if unaccompanied by repentance, grows a 
thousandfold more virulent by its self -consciousness. Be it consid- 



526 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

ered, also, that men often overestimate their capacity for evil. At a 
distance, while its attendant circumstances do not press upon their 
notice, and its results are dimly seen, they can bear to contemplate it. 
They may take the steps which lead to crime, impelled by the same 
sort of mental action as in working out a mathematical problem, yet 
be powerless with compunction at the final moment. They knew not 
what deed it was that they deemed themselves resolved to do. In 
truth, there is no such thing in man's nature as a settled and full re- 
solve, either for good or evil, except at the very moment of execution. 
Let us hope, therefore, that all the dreadful consequences of sin will 
not be incurred unless the act have set its seal upon the thought. 

Yet, with the slight fancy-work which we have framed, some sad 
and awful truths are interwoven. Man must not disclaim his brother- 
hood, even with the guiltiest, since, though his hand be clean, his heart 
has surely been polluted by the flitting phantoms of iniquity. He 
must feel that when he shall knock at the gate of heaven, no semblance 
of an unspotted life can entitle him to entrance there. Penitence 
must kneel, and Mercy come from the footstool of the throne, or that 
golden gate will never open! 



NOTES TO HAWTHORNE 527 



NOTES TO HAWTHORNE 

The Gray Champion 

This and the following selection are taken from the first series of " Twice- 
Told Tales," published in 1837. The first story illustrates Hawthorne's fond- 
ness for New England themes, and his imaginative method of treating them; 
the second, his sense of human sin, and his manner of probing the heart. In 
both will be found his peculiar grace of style. 

Of the "Twice-Told Tales" Hawthorne says, in a bit of self-criticism: 
"They have the pale tint of flowers that blossomed in too retired a shade, — 
the coolness of a meditative habit, which diffuses itself through the feeling and 
observation of every sketch. Instead of passion, there is sentiment ; and, even 
in what purport to be pictures of actual life, we have allegory, not always so 
warmly dressed in its habiliments of flesh and blood, as to be taken into the 
reader's mind without a shiver." 

1. This was done in 1686. 

2. The colonists gave vent to their feelings by calling him "the tyrant of 
New England." For further illustrations of this paragraph, consult a good his- 
tory. 

3. The Prince of Orange, upon the invitation of a number of English states- 
men, entered^Ertgland with an army, and succeeded in dethroning James II. 
This movement is known in history as the Revolution of 1688. 

4. This appearance seems to be an invention of Hawthorne's, in order to 
furnish occasion for the incidents that follow. 

5. A reference, of course, to the "Boston Massacre," which took place 
March 5, 1770. "King-street" is now called State Street. . 

6. This refers to the Civil War in England, a struggle between the Parlia- 
ment and Charles I (1642-1646), which resulted in the beheading of the king, 
Jan. 30, 1649. 

7. This war between the colonists and the confederated Indians (1675- 
1676) was carried on with great fierceness and determination on both sides. 

8. Smithfield was a locality in London, where a number of Puritans suffered 
martyrdom. 

9. John Rogers was burned at Smithfield in 1555, the first martyr under 
the reign of "Bloody Mary." In 1537, under the name of John Matthew, he 
published "Matthew's Bible," a compilation from Coverdale's and Tyndale's 
versions. 



528 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

10. This was the "New England Primer," which for a century and a half 
was the first book in religion and morals as well as in learning and literature. 

11. For an account of the massacre of Protestants in Paris on St. Bar- 
tholomew's Day, Aug, 24, 1572, consult a good encyclopaedia. 

12. Simon Bradstreet was governor of Massachusetts in 1679-1686, and 
again in 1689-1692. 

13. The matchlocks were fired by means of slow-burning match-cords which 
were lighted at one or both ends when carried into action. 

14. To hold an Anglican service, Andros forcibly took possession of the 
Old South Meeting-house. This will explain the bitter feeling of the people. 

15. According to an old tradition, when the town of Hadley was attacked 
in King Philip's War, and the settlers were irresolute for want of a leader, 
"a venerable man, unknown to all, appeared suddenly in the streets, took 
command of the people, gave military orders that led to the defeat of the 
Indians, and then disappeared as suddenly as he came. It was afterwards 
supposed that this mysterious person was William Goffe, who had been a general 
in Cromwell's army, and had been compelled to flee from England as a 'regi- 
cide' for having been one of the judges who sentenced Charles I to death." 
It was this mysterious appearance that Hawthorne here makes use of, changing 
the time and place of the event. 

16. John Winthrop landed in Massachusetts in 1630, and served repeatedly 
as colonial governor. 

17. "Old Noll" was a nickname of Oliver Cromwell. 

18. It is characteristic of Hawthorne's genius, thus to make the Gray 
Champion symbolize New England independence and courage. This single 
stroke gives a deeper meaning to the entire story. 

Fancy's Show-Box 

This story, as we learn from Julian Hawthorne's excellent biography of 
his father, possesses a peculiar personal interest. It was suggested by a bitter 
experience. Hawthorne had been ensnared in the toils of a false and malicious 
woman, by whom he was induced to believe that a friend of his had grossly in- 
sulted her. In his sudden burst of indignation Hawthorne sent him a chal- 
lenge. Fortunately, the friend in question was acquainted with the dangerous 
character of the woman ; and after fully vindicating his innocence, and con- 
vincing Hawthorne of her perfidy, he generously demanded a renewal of their 
friendship. This, of course, was as generously granted. 

Unfortunately, this was not the end of the matter. Shortly afterwards 
another friend of Hawthorne's, Cilley by name, received a challenge, which 
he was not bound by the so-called "code of honor" to accept. But while he 
was hesitating, some one said to him, "If Hawthorne was so ready to fight a 



NOTES TO HAWTHORNE 529 

duel without stopping to ask questions, you certainly need not hesitate." 
Hawthorne was considered a model of honorable and manly conduct, and this 
argument was decisive. Cilley accepted the challenge, met his antagonist 
and was killed. 

When Hawthorne learned these facts, he was smitten with remorse. He 
saw that it was Cilley's high esteem for him that led to his fatal decision. " Had 
I not sought to take the life of my friend," was the burden of his meditation, 
"this other friend would still be alive." And he felt as if he were almost as 
much responsible for his friend's death as the man that shot him. 

It was under these circumstances that "Fancy's Show-Box" was written. 
" In it the question is discussed, whether the soul may contract the stains of guilt, 
in all their depth and flagrancy, from deeds which may have been plotted and 
resolved upon, but which physically have never had an existence. The con- 
clusion is reached, that 'it is not until the crime is accomplished that guilt 
clinches its gripe upon the guilty heart and claims it for its own. . . . There 
is no such thing, in man's nature, as a settled and full resolve, either for good 
or evil, except at the very moment of execution.' Nevertheless, 'man must 
not disclaim his brotherhood with the guiltiest; since, though his hand be 
clean, his heart has surely been polluted by the flitting phantoms of iniquity. 
He must feel that, when he shall knock at the gate of Heaven, no semblance 
of an unspotted life can entitle him to entrance there. Penitence must kneel, 
and Mercy come from the footstool of the throne, or that golden gate will never 
open ! ' Those who wish to obtain more than a superficial glimpse into Haw- 
thorne's heart cannot do better than to ponder every part of this little story." 



530 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



XIII 

SELECTIONS FROM LONGFELLOW 

A PSALM OF LIFE 

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, 
Life is but an empty dream ! — 

For the soul is dead that slumbers, 
And things are not what they seem. 

Life is real ! Life is earnest ! 

And the grave is not its goal ; 
Dust thou art, to dust returnest. 

Was not spoken of the soul. 

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, 

Is our destined end or way ; 
But to act, that each to-morrow 

Finds us farther than to-day. 

Art is long, and Time is fleeting, 
And our hearts, though stout and brave, 

StiU, like muffled drums, are beating 
Funeral marches to the grave. 

In the world's broad field of battle, 

In the bivouac of Life, 
Be not like dumb, driven cattle ! 

Be a hero in the strife ! 

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant ! 

Let the dead Past bury its dead ! 
Act, — act in the living Present ! 

Heart within, and God o'erhead ! 



SELECTIONS FROM LONGFELLOW 531 

Lives of great men all remind us 

We can make our lives sublime, 
And, departing, leave behind us 

Footprints on the sands of time ; 

Footprints, that perhaps another, 

Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, 

Seeing, shall take heart again. 

Let us, then, be up and doing, 

With a heart for any fate ; 
Still achieving, still pursuing. 

Learn to labor and to wait. 



FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS 

When the hours of day are numbered, 

And the voices of the night 
Wake the better soul, that slumbered, 

To a holy, calm delight ; 

Ere the evening lamps are lighted. 
And like phantoms grim and tall, 

Shadows from the fitful tirehght 
Dance upon the parlor wall ; 

Then the forms of the departed 

Enter at the open door ; 
The beloved, the true-hearted. 

Come to visit me once more ; 

He, the young and strong, who cherished 
Noble longings for the strife. 

By the roadside fell and perished. 
Weary with the march of life ! 

They, the holy ones and weakly, 
Who the cross of suffering bore. 

Folded their pale hands so meekly, 
Spake with us on earth no more ! 



53^ AMERICAN LITERATURE 

And with them the Being Beauteous, 
Who unto my youth was given, 

More than all things else to love me, 
And is now a saint in heaven. 

With a slow and noiseless footstep 
Comes that messenger divine. 

Takes the vacant chair beside me, 
Lays her gentle hand in mine. 

And she sits and gazes at me 

With those deep and tender eyes, 

Like the stars, so still and saint-like. 
Looking downward from the skies. 

Uttered not, yet comprehended. 
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer, 

Soft rebukes, in blessings ended. 
Breathing from her lips of air. 

Oh, though oft depressed and lonely, 
All my fears are laid aside. 

If I but remember only 

Such as these have lived and died. 



THE SKELETON IN ARMOR 

"Speak ! speak ! thou fearful guest ! 
Who, with thy hollow breast 
Still in rude armor drest, 

Comest to daunt me ! 
Wrapt not in Eastern balms. 
But with thy fleshless palms 
Stretched, as if asking alms, 

Why dost thou haunt me?" 

Then from those cavernous eyes 
Pale flashes seemed to rise. 
As when the Northern skies 
Gleam in December ; 



SELECTIONS FROM LONGFELLOW 533 

And, like the water's flow 
Under December's snow, 
Came a dull voice of woe 

From the heart's chamber. 

"I was a Viking old ! 
My deeds, though manifold, 
No Skald ^ in song has told, 

No Saga ^ taught thee ! 
Take heed, that in thy verse 
Thou dost the tale rehearse, 
Else dread a dead man's curse ; 

For this I sought thee. 

" Far in the Northern Land, 
By the wild Baltic's strand, 
I, with my childish hand. 

Tamed the gerfalcon ; 
And, with my skates fast-bound. 
Skimmed the half-frozen Sound,' 
That the poor whimpering hound 

Trembled to walk on. 

"Oft to his frozen lair 
Tracked I the grisly bear, 
While from my path the hare 

Fled like a shadow ; 
Oft through the forest dark 
Followed the were- wolf 's ^ bark, 
Until the soaring lark 

Sang from the meadow. 

"But when I older grew, 
Joining a corsair's crew, 
O'er the dark sea I flew 

With the marauders. 
Wild was the life we led ; 
Many the souls that sped, 
Many the hearts that bled, 

By our stern orders. 



534 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"Many a wassail-bout 
Wore the long Winter out ; 
Often our midnight shout 

Set the cocks crowing, 
As we the Berserk's ^ tale 
Measured in cups of ale, 
Draining the oaken pail, 

Filled to o'erflowing. 

**Once as I told in glee 
Tales of the stormy sea, 
Soft eyes did gaze on me, 

Burning yet tender ; 
And as the white stars shine 
On the dark Norway pine, 
On that dark heart of mine 

Fell their soft splendor. 

"I wooed the blue-eyed maid, 
Yielding, yet half afraid, 
And in the forest's shade 

Our vows were plighted. 
Under its loosened vest 
Fluttered her little breast, 
Like birds within their nest 

By the hawk frighted. 

"Bright in her father's hall 
Shields gleamed upon the wall, 
Loud sang the minstrels all. 

Chanting his glory ; 
When of old Hildebrand ^ 
I asked his daughter's hand, 
Mute did the minstrels stand 

To hear my story. 

"While the brown ale he quaffed, 
Loud then the champion laughed, 
And as the wind-gusts waft 
The sea-foam brightly, 



SELECTIONS FROM LONGFELLOW SZS 

So the loud laugh of scorn, 
Out of those lips unshorn, 
From the deep drinking-horn 
Blew the foam lightly. 

"She was a Prince's child, 
I but a Viking wild, 
And though she blushed and smiled, 

I was discarded ! 
Should not the dove so white 
Follow the sea-mew's flight. 
Why did they leave that night 

Her nest unguarded ? 

"Scarce had I put to sea. 
Bearing the maid with me, 
Fairest of all was she 

Among the Norsemen ! 
When on the white sea-strand, 
Waving his armed hand, 
Saw we old Hildebrand, 

With twenty horsemen, 

"Then launched they to the blast, 
Bent like a reed each mast. 
Yet we were gaining fast, 

When the wind failed us ; 
And with a sudden flaw 
Came round the gusty Skaw,^ 
So that our foe we saw 

Laugh as he hailed us. 

"And as to catch the gale 
Round veered the flapping sail, 
* Death ! ' was the helmsman's hail, 

'Death without quarter!' 
Mid-ships with iron keel 
Struck we her ribs of steel ; 
Down her black hulk did reel 

Through the black water ! 



536 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"As with his wings aslant, 
Sails the fierce cormorant, 
Seeking some rocky haunt, 

With his prey laden, — 
So toward the open main, 
Beating to sea again, 
Through the wild hurricane. 

Bore I the maiden. 

"Three weeks we westward bore. 
And when the storm was o'er. 
Cloud-like we saw the shore 

Stretching to leeward ; 
There for my lady's bower 
Built I the lofty tower. 
Which, to this very hour, 

Stands looking seaward. 

"There lived we many years; 
Time dried the maiden's tears ; 
She had forgot her fears. 

She was a mother ; 
Death closed her mild blue eyes. 
Under that tower she lies ; 
Ne'er shall the sun arise 

On such another ! 

"Still grew my bosom then. 
Still as a stagnant fen ! 
Hateful to me were men, 

The sunlight hateful ! 
In the vast forest here. 
Clad in my warlike gear, 
Fell I upon my spear, 

Oh, death was grateful ! 

"Thus, seamed with many scars, 
Bursting these prison bars. 
Up to its native stars 
My soul ascended ! 



SELECTIO.^S FROM LONGFELLOW $37 

There from the flowing bowl 
Deep drinks the warrior's soul, 
Skoal! « to the Northland ! skoal!" 
Thus the tale ended. 



THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD 

This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling, 

Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms ; 

But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing 
Startles the viUages with strange alarms. 

Ah ! what a sound will rise, how wild and dreary. 
When the death-angel touches those swift keys ! 

What loud lament and dismal Miserere ^ 

Will mingle with their awful symphonies ! 

I hear even now the infinite fierce chorus, 

The cries of agony, the endless groan, 
Which, through the ages that have gone before us, 

In long reverberations reach our own. 

On helm and harness rings the Saxon hammer,^ 

Through Cimbric ^ forest roars the Norseman's song, 
And loud amid the universal clamor, 

O'er distant deserts sounds the Tartar gong. 

I hear the Florentine, who from his palace 

Wheels out his battle-beU with dreadful din. 

And Aztec priests upon their teocallis "* 

Beat the wild war-drums made of serpent's skin ; 

The tumult of each sacked and burning village ; 

The shout that every prayer for mercy drowns ; 
The soldier's revels in the midst of pillage ; 

The wail of famine in beleaguered towns ; 

The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder. 
The rattHng musketry, the clashing blade ; 

And ever and anon, in tones of thunder 
The diapason of the cg-nnonade. 



538 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Is it, O man, with such discordant noises, 
With such accursed instruments as these, 

Thou drownest Nature's sweet and kindly voices. 
And j arrest the celestial harmonies ? 

Were half the power that fills the world with terror. 

Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts. 

Given to redeem the human mind from error, 
There were no need of arsenals and forts : 

The warrior's name would be a name abhorred ! 

And every nation, that should lift again 
Its hand against a brother, on its forehead 

Would wear forevermore the curse of Cain ! ^ 

Down the dark future, through long generations, 

The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease ; 

And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, 

I hear once more the voice of Christ say, "Peace !" * 

Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals 

The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies ! 

But beautiful as songs of the immortals, 
The holy melodies of love arise. 



THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP 

"Build me straight, O worthy Master! ^ 
Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel, 
That shall laugh at all disaster, 
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!" 

The merchant's word 
Delighted the Master heard ; 
For his heart was in his work, and the heart 
Giveth grace unto every Art. 
A quiet smile played round his lips. 
As the eddies and dimples of the tide 
, Play round the bows of ships, 
That steadily at anchor ride. 



SELECTIONS FROM LONGFELLOW 539 

And with a voice that was full of glee, 

He answered, "Ere long we will launch 

A vessel as goodly, and strong, and staunch, 

As ever weathered a wintry sea !" 

And first with nicest skill and art, 

Perfect and finished in every part, 

A little model the Master wrought. 

Which should be to the larger plan 

What the child is to the man. 

Its counterpart in miniature ; 

That with a hand more swift and sure 

The greater labor might be brought 

To answer to his inward thought. 

And as he labored, his mind ran o'er 

The various ships that were built of yore ; 

And above them all, and strangest of all. 

Towered the Great Harry,- crank ^ and tall, 

Whose picture was hanging on the wall. 

With bows and stern raised high in air. 

And balconies hanging here and there, 

And signal lanterns and flags afloat, 

And eight round towers, like those that frown 

From some old castle, looking down 

Upon the drawbridge and the moat. 

And he said with a smile, "Our ship, I wis. 

Shall be of another form than this !" 

It was of another form, indeed ; 

Built for freight, and yet for speed, 

A beautiful and gallant craft ; 

Broad in the beam, that the stress of the blast, 

Pressing down upon sail and mast. 

Might not the sharp bows overwhelm ; 

Broad in the beam, but sloping aft 

With graceful curve and slow degrees, 

That she might be docile to the helm, 

And that the currents of parted seas, 

Closing behind, with mighty force, 

Might aid and not impede her course. 



S40 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 

In the ship-yard stood the Master, 
With the model of the vessel, 
That should laugh at all disaster, 
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle ! 

Covering many a rood of ground, 

Lay the timber piled around ; 

Timber of chestnut, and elm, and oak, 

And scattered here and there, with these, 

The knarred ^ and crooked cedar knees ; 

Brought from regions far away. 

From Pascagoula's ^ sunny bay, 

And the banks of the roaring Roanoke ! ® 

Ah ! what a wondrous thing it is 

To note how many wheels of toil 

One thought, one word, can set in motion ! 

There's not a ship that sails the ocean. 

But every climate, every soil. 

Must bring its tribute, great or small, 

And help to build the wooden wall ! 

The sun was rising o'er the sea, 
And long the level shadows lay. 
As if they, too, the beams would be 
Of some great airy argosy, 
Framed and launched in a single day. 
That silent architect, the sun, 
Had hewn and laid them every one, 
Ere the work of man was yet begun. 
Beside the Master, when he spoke, 
A youth, against an anchor leaning. 
Listened, to catch his slightest meaning. 
Only the long waves, as they broke 
In ripples on the pebbly beach. 
Interrupted the old man's speech. 

Beautiful they were, in sooth, 
The old man and the fiery youth ! 



SELECTIONS FROM LONGFELLOW 54 1 

The old man, in whose busy brain 

Many a ship that sailed the main 

Was modelled o'er and o'er again ; — 

The fiery youth, who was to be 

The heir of his dexterity, 

The heir of his house, and his daughter's hand, 

When he had built and launched from land 

What the elder head had planned. 

''Thus," said he, "will we build this ship I 
Lay square the blocks upon the slip,^ 
And follow well this plan of mine. 
Choose the timbers with greatest care ; 
Of all that is unsound beware ; 
For only what is sound and strong 
To this vessel shall belong. 
Cedar of Maine and Georgia pine 
Here together shall combine. 
A goodly frame, and a goodly fame, 
And the Union be her name ! 
For the day that gives her to the sea 
Shall give my daughter unto thee !" 

The Master's word 

Enraptured the young man heard ; 

And as he turned his face aside, 

With a look of joy and a thrill of pride, 

Standing before 

Her father's door, 

He saw the form of his promised bride. 

The sun shone on her golden hair, 

And her cheek was glowing fresh and fair, 

With the breath of morn and the soft sea air 

Like a beauteous barge was she, 

Still at rest on the sandy beach. 

Just beyond the billow's reach ; 

But he 

Was the restless, seething, stormy sea ! 

Ah, how skilful grows the hand 



542 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 

That obeyeth Love's command ! 
It is the heart, and not the brain, 
That to the highest doth attain. 
And he who followeth Love's behest 
Far excelleth all the rest ! 

Thus with the rising of the sun 

Was the noble task begun, 

And soon throughout the ship-yard's bounds 

Were heard the intermingled sounds 

Of axes and of mallets, plied 

With vigorous arms on every side ; 

Plied so deftly and so well, 

That, ere the shadows of evening fell. 

The keel ^ of oak for a noble ship, 

Was lying ready, and stretched along 

The blocks, well placed upon the slip. 

Happy, thrice happy, every one 

Who sees his labor well begun, 

And not perplexed and multiplied, 

By idly waiting for time and tide ! • 

And when the hot, long day was o'er, 

The young man at the Master's door 

Sat with the maiden calm and still, 

And within the porch, a little more 

Removed beyond the evening chill, 

The father sat, and told them tales 

Of wrecks in the great September gales. 

Of pirates coasting the Spanish Main, 

And ships that never came back again. 

The chance and change of a sailor's life, 

Want and plenty, rest and strife. 

His roving fancy, Hke the wind. 

That nothing can stay and nothing can bind. 

And the magic charm of foreign lands, 

With shadows of palms, and shining sands, 

Where the tumbling surf. 



SELECTIONS FROM LONGFELLOW .543 

O'er the coral reefs of Madagascar, 
Washes the feet of the swarthy Lascar,^ 
As he lies alone and asleep on the turf. 
And the trembling maiden held her breath 
At the tales of that awful, pitiless sea, 
With all its terror and mystery, 
The dim, dark sea, so like unto Death, 
That divides and yet unites mankind ! 
And whenever the old man paused, a gleam 
From the bowl of his pipe would awhile illume 
The silent group in the twilight gloom, 
And thoughtful faces, as in a dream ; 
And for a moment one might mark 
What had been hidden by the dark, 
That the head of the maiden lay at rest, 
Tenderly, on the young man's breast ! 

Day by day the vessel grew. 

With timbers fastened strong and true, 

Stemson 1° and keelson and sternson-knee, 

Till, framed with perfect symmetry, 

A skeleton ship rose up to view ! 

And around the bows and along the side 

The heavy hammers and mallets plied, 

Till after many a week, at length. 

Wonderful for form and strength, 

Sublime in its enormous bulk. 

Loomed aloft the shadowy hulk ! 

And around it columns of smoke, upwreathing, 

Rose from the boiling, bubbling, seething 

Caldron, that glowed. 

And overflowed 

With the black tar, heated for the sheathing. 

And amid the clamors 

Of clattering hammers, 

He who listened heard now and then 

The song of the Master and his men : — 



544 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"Build me straight, O worthy Master, 
Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel. 
That shall laugh at all disaster, 
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle !" 

With oaken brace and copper band, 

Lay the rudder on the sand 

That, like a thought, should have control 

Over the movement of the whole ; 

And near it the anchor, whose giant hand, 

Would reach down and grapple with the land, 

And immovable and fast 

Hold the great ship against the bellowing blast ! 

And at the bows an image stood, 

By a cunning artist carved in wood. 

With robes of white, that far behind 

Seemed to be fluttering in the wind. 

It was not shaped in a classic mould. 

Not like a Nymph or Goddess of old. 

Or Naiad rising from the water. 

But modelled from the Master's daughter ! 

On many a dreary and misty night, 

'Twill be seen by the rays of the signal light, 

Speeding along through the rain and the dark, 

Like a ghost in its snow-white sark, 

The pilot of some phantom bark. 

Guiding the vessel, in its flight. 

By a path none other knows aright ! 

Behold, at last. 
Each tall and tapering mast 
Is swung into its place ; 
Shrouds and stays 
Holding it firm and fast ! 

Long ago, 

In the deer-haunted forests of Maine, 
When upon mountain and plain 
Lay the snow, 



SELECTIONS FROM LONGFELLOW 545 

They fell, — those lordly pines ! 

Those grand, majestic pines ! 

'Mid shouts and cheers 

The jaded steers, 

Panting beneath the goad. 

Dragged down the weary, winding road 

Those captive kings so straight and tall, 

To be shorn of their streaming hair, 

And naked and bare. 

To feel the stress and the strain 

Of the wind and the reeling main. 

Whose roar 

Would remind them forevermore 

Of their native forests they should not see again. 

And everywhere 

The slender, graceful spars 

Poise aloft in the air, 

And at the mast-head. 

White, blue, and red, 

A flag unrolls the stripes and stars. 

Ah ! when the wanderer, lonely, friendless, 

In foreign harbors shall behold 

That flag unrolled, 

'Twill be as a friendly hand 

Stretched out from his native land. 

Filling his heart with memories sweet and endless ! 

All is finished ! and at length 

Has come the bridal day 

Of beauty and of strength. 

To-day the vessel shall be launched ! 

With fleecy clouds the sky is blanched, 

And o'er the bay. 

Slowly, in all his splendors dight. 

The great sun rises to behold the sight. 

The ocean old. 

Centuries old. 

Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled, 



546 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Paces restless to and fro, 

Up and down the sands of gold. 

His beating heart is not at rest ; 

And far and wide, 

With ceaseless flow, 

His beard of snow 

Heaves with the heaving of his breast. 

He waits impatient for his bride. 

There she stands. 

With her foot upon the sands, 

Decked with flags and streamers gay. 

In honor of her marriage day, 

Her snow-white signals fluttering, blending, 

Round her Uke a veil descending, 

Ready to be 

The bride of the gray old sea. 

On the deck another bride 
Is standing by her lover's side. 
Shadows from the flags and shrouds, 
Like the shadows cast by clouds. 
Broken by many a sudden fleck. 
Fall around them on the deck. 

The prayer is said. 

The service is read. 

The joyous bridegroom bows his head ; 

And in tears the good old Master 

Shakes the brown hand of his son, 

Kisses his daughter's glowing cheek 

In silence, for he cannot speak. 

And ever faster 

Down his own the tears begin to run. 

The worthy pastor — 

The shepherd of that wandering flock, 

That has the vessel for its wold. 

That has the ocean for its fold. 

Leaping ever from rock to rock — 

Spake, with accents mild and clear, 



SELECTIOXS FROM LONGFELLOW 547 

Words of warning, words of cheer, 

But tedious to the bridegroom's ear. 

He knew the chart 

Of all the sailor's heart, 

All its pleasures and its griefs, 

All its shallows and rocky reefs. 

All those secret currents, that flow 

With such resistless undertow, 

And lift and drift, with terrible force. 

The will from its moorings and its course. 

Therefore he spake, and thus said he : — 

"Like unto ships far off at sea, 

Outward or homeward bound, are we. 

Before, behind, and all around. 

Floats and swings the horizon's bound, 

Seems at its distant rim to rise 

And climb the crystal wall of the skies, 

And then again to turn and sink. 

As if we could slide from its outer brink. 

Ah ! it is not the sea, 

It is not the sea that sinks and shelves, 

But ourselves 

That rock and rise 

With endless and uneasy motion, 

Now touching the very skies. 

Now sinking into the depths of ocean. 

Ah ! if our souls but poise and swing 

Like the compass in its brazen ring, 

Ever level and ever true 

To the toil and the task we have to do, 

We shall sail securely, and safely reach 

The Fortunate Isles,^^ on whose shining beach 

The sights we see, and the sounds we hear, 

Will be those of joy and not of fear 1" 

Then the Master, 

With a gesture of command, 

Waved his hand ; 



548 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

And at the word, 

Loud and sudden there was heard, 

All around them and below, 

The sound of hammers, blow on blow, 

Knocking away the shores and spurs. 

And see ! she stirs ! 

She starts, — she moves, — she seems to feel 

The thrill of life along her keel. 

And, spurning with her foot the ground. 

With one exulting, joyous bound. 

She leaps into the ocean's arms ! 

And lo ! from the assembled crowd 
There rose a shout, prolonged and loud, 
That to the ocean seemed to say, 
"Take her, O bridegroom, old and gray. 
Take her to thy protecting arms, 
With all her youth and all her charms!" 

How beautiful she is ! How fair 

She lies within those arms, that press 

Her form with many a soft caress 

Of tenderness and watchful care ! 

Sail forth into the sea, ship ! 

Through wind and wave, right onward steer ! 

The moistened eye, the trembling Hp, 

Are not the signs of doubt or fear. 

Sail forth into the sea of life, 
O gentle, loving, trusting wife, 
And safe from all adversity 
Upon the bosom of that sea 
Thy comings and thy goings be ! 
For gentleness and love and trust 
Prevail o'er angry wave and gust ; 
And in the wreck of noble lives 
Something immortal still survives ! 



SELECTIONS FROM LONGFELLOW 549 

Thou, too, sail on, O ship of State ! 

Sail on, O Union, strong and great ! 

Humanity with all its fears. 

With all the hopes of future years, 

Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! 

We know what Master ^^ laid thy keel, 

What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, 

Who made each mast, and sail, and rope. 

What anvils rang, what hammers beat. 

In what a forge and what a heat 

Were shaped the anchors of thy hope ! 

Fear not each sudden sound and shock, 

'Tis of the wave and not the rock ; 

'Tis but the flapping of the sail. 

And not a rent made by the gale ! 

In spite of rock and tempest's roar. 

In spite of false lights on the shore. 

Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! 

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee. 

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears. 

Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, 

Are aU with thee — are all with thee ! 



550 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



NOTES TO LONGFELLOW 

For a general introduction to each poem, consult the preceding sketch. 

The poems selected are all well known. It is probable that the student is 
already familiar with them. But there is a great deal of superficial reading; 
and it is possible that a careful study will not only reveal new beauty in each 
poem, but also lead to a higher appreciation of the poet's genius and art. 

A Psalm of Life 

Of this poem Mr. Longfellow said: "I kept it some time in manuscript, 
unwilling to show it to any one, it being a voice from my inmost heart, at a 
time when I was rallying from depression." His first wife died in 1835, and the 
poem was published in 1838. Before its publication the poet read it to his 
college class at the close of a lecture on Goethe. 

The poem is the message of courage and hope that the psalmist's heart 
brought to him. Under the temporary shock and depression of bereavement, 
he felt that life is empty, that immortality is a fiction, and that duty is a phan- 
tom. It is a feeling that at times comes to most men. 

With the second stanza begins the strong, earnest voice of the psalmist's 
heart. It corrects his despairing view of life. With a reference to the story 
of man's creation in Genesis, it declares the truth of man's immortality. It 
then points but the true end of life, the spirit in which duty is to be met, and 
the beneficent influence of heroic example. It concludes with the practical 
exhortation, "learn to labor and to wait." 

The "Psalm of Life" is a good specimen of Longfellow's didactic poetry. 
It is a short sermon or moral lecture in verse, with an introduction, argument, 
and conclusion. No word or phrase should be passed without determining its 
meaning, and the successive steps of the argument should be pointed out. It 
is safe to say that there is a great deal more in the poem than most readers find. 

Footsteps of Angels 

The original title of this poem was "Evening Shadows." The reference 
in the fourth stanza is to the poet's brother-in-law, George W. Pierce, of whom 
he wrote long afterwards, "I have never ceased to feel that in his death some- 
thing was taken from my own life which could never be restored." Longfellow 
received the news of his death at Heidelberg on Christmas Eve 1835, less than 
a month after the death of his wife, who is tenderly referred to in the closing 



NOTES TO LONGFELLOW 551 

stanzas. This poem exhibits not only the true-hearted character of the poet, 
but also the sound moral tone of all his poetry. The verse is simple and clear 
throughout. 

The Skeleton in Armor 

This is an admirable ballad. In its main features it was no doubt suggested 
by Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner." It was built up from the slenderest foun- 
dation of fact, and may fairly be regarded as one of Longfellow's most imagina- 
tive pieces. It is artistically wrought out in all its parts, and the verse shows 
more vigor than usual. The stanzas are compact, and the epithets happily 
chosen. 

The historic groundwork is found in the Round Tower of Newport and 
the Fall River skeleton. The theory of the Norse origin of the tower is ac- 
cepted. The bold Viking says, — 

"There for my lady's bower 
Built I the lofty tower, 
Which, to this very hour, 

Stands looking seaward." 

In digging down a hill near Fall River, a skeleton was discovered in a sitting 
posture. On the breast was a plate of brass, evidently intended for protective 
armor. The origin of the skeleton, though probably that of an Indian, has not 
been definitely determined. In the poem, however, it is the skeleton of the 
suicide Viking, — 

"In the vast forest here, 
Clad in my warlike gear, 
Fell I upon my spear. 

Oh, death was grateful!" 

Much of the beauty of the poem will be lost without a vivid conception of 
the wild Ufe of the Vikings. Who were they? Where did they live? Their 
daring spirit is well exhibited in the poem. The "wassail-bouts" and minstrel 
songs introduce us to the castle-life of the mediaeval period. Almost every 
stanza presents a clear-cut and interesting picture. "To old-fashioned people," 
says Stedman, "this heroic ballad is worth a year's product of what I may term 
Kensington-stitch verse." 

1. Skald = an ancient Scandinavian minstrel, the equivalent of bard 
among Celtic peoples. 

2. Saga =a Scandinavian myth, or heroic story; in a wider sense, a 
legend. 

3. The Sound is a sea-passage between Sweden and the island of Zealand 
in Denmark. In its narrowest part it is three miles wide. 



552 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

4. Werewolf = a person who, according to mediaeval superstition, became 
voluntarily or involuntarily a wolf, and in that form practised cannibalism. 
Otherwise spelled werwolf. 

5. Berserk = in Norse legend a warrior who fought with frenzied fury, 
known as the "berserker rage." 

6. Hildehrand was a common name in the legendary lore of the Teutonic 
race. 

7. The Skaw is a cape at the northeastern extremity of Jutland in Den- 
mark. 

8. Skoal. — Of this word Longfellow said: "In Scandinavia, this is the 
customary salutation when drinking a health. I have slightly changed the 
orthography of the word, in order to preserve the correct pronunciation." 

The Arsenal at Springfield 

In 1777 General Washington selected Springfield as a suitable location for 
an arsenal. Small arms were manufactured there a few years later, and since 
then it has become a large factory and repository. 

In 1843, when on his wedding journey, Longfellow visited the arsenal in 
company with his bride and Charles Sumner. "While Mr. Sumner was en- 
deavoring," says Mr. Samuel Longfellow, "to impress upon the attendant that 
the money expended upon those weapons of war would have been much 
better spent upon a large library, Mrs. Longfellow pleased her husband by 
remarking how like an organ looked the ranged and shining gun-barrels which 
covered the walls from floor to ceiling, and suggesting what mournful music 
Death would bring from them. 'We grew quite warlike against war,' she wrote, 
'and I urged H. to write a peace poem.'" The poem was written some months 
later. 

The subject took deep hold upon the poet. The poem is written with ex- 
traordinary energy. Like nearly all of Longfellow's verse, it has a moral 
purpose. It teaches the religion of humanity. It consists of an introduction, 
a rapid review of war scenes in successive ages and different countries, mournful 
reflections on the wrong and curse of war, and concludes with the cheering 
prophecy of the reign of universal peace. 

1. Miserere = a musical composition adapted to the Fifty-first Psalm. 
It is the first word of that Psalm in the Latin version, and means have mercy. 
The miserere is of frequent occurrence in the services of the Roman Church, and 
is one of the most expressive chants in the whole range of sacred music. 

2. Saxon hammer = a weapon of attack in war used by the Saxons and 
others during the Middle Ages. The hammer usually had one blunt face, with 
a sharp point on the opposite side. 



NOTES TO LONGFELLOW 553 

3. Cimhric — pertaining to the Cimbri, an ancient people of central Europe. 
The peninsula of Jutland was named from them, the Cimhric Chersonese. 

4. Teocalli = a structure of earth and stone or brick, used as a temple 
or place of worship by the Aztecs and other aborigines of America. It was 
generally a solid, four-sided, truncated pyramid, built terrace-wise, with the 
temple proper on the platform at the summit. 

5. Curse of Cain. See Gen. iv. 11-15. 

6. Peace. See Mark iv. 39. 

The Building of the Ship 

As already indicated, the form of this poem is borrowed from Schiller's 
" Song of the Bell" ; and it is scarcely inferior to the work of the great German. 
The poet's heart was in his work; and the metre and rhythm are in excellent 
keeping with the thought and sentiment. He had probably learned something 
of ship-building in Portland. The successive pictures presented by the poem 
have been compared to instantaneous photographs. The felling of the giant 
pines and the terrors and mysteries of the sea are admirably described. The 
human element is no less interesting. The ship-builder, with his conscious 
skill and integrity, is a fine portrait. The love-story interwoven with the main 
narrative gives the poem an air of tenderness. The name of the vessel suggests 
the American Union, and the poem concludes with a noble burst of patriotic 
feeling. It has been pronounced " the freshest and most stirring of our national 
poems." 

1. Master = proprietor of a ship-yard. 

2. Great Harry = the first war-ship of the British navy, built in 1438. 

3. Crank = liable to careen or be capsized. 

4. Knarred = gnarled, knotty. 

5. Pascagoula Bay is in the southeastern part of Mississippi. The river 
of the same name, which empties into the bay, runs through a sandy region of 
pine forests. 

6. Roanoke = a river of Virginia and North Carolina, emptying into Albe- 
marle Sound. It rises in the Alleghany Mountains, and in its course in Vir- 
ginia may, with some justice, be characterized as "roaring." 

7. Slip = an inclined plane on the bank of a river or harbor, intended for 
ship-building. 

8. Keel = the principal timber in a ship, extending from stem to stem 
at the bottom. 

9. Lascar = a native sailor employed in European vessels in East India. 
10. Stemson = a piece of curved timber fixed on the after part of the apron 

inside. The lower end is scarfed into the keelson, and receives the scarf of the 
stem, through which it is bolted. — Keelson = a beam running lengthwise above 



554 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

the keel of the ship, and bolted to the middle of the floor-frames, in order 
to stiffen the vessel. — Sternson = the end of a ship's keelson, to which the stem- 
post is bolted. 

11. The Fortunate Isles, according to the ancients, were located off the 
western cost of Africa. Their name is due to their remarkable beauty, and 
the abimdance of all things desirable which they were supposed to contain. 
By some they are identified with the Canaries. 

12. Master = Washington. The workmen referred to in the next line are 
the statesmen who assisted in organizing our government. 



SELECTIONS FROM LOWELL $$5 

XIV 

SELECTIONS FROM LOWELL 

WHAT MR. ROBINSON THINKS 

GuvENER B.Ms a sensible man ; 

He stays to his home an' looks arter his folks ; 
He draws his furrer ez straight ez he can, 
An' into nobody's tater-patch pokes ; — 
But John P. 
Robinson he 
Sez he wunt vote fer Guvener B. 

My! aint it terrible? What shall we du? 

We can't never choose him o' course, — thet's flat ; 
Guess we shall hev to come round, (don't you?) 
An' go in fer thunder an' guns, an' all that ; 
Fer John P. 
Robinson he 
Sez he wunt vote fer Guvener B. 

Gineral C.^ is a dreffle smart man : 

He's ben on all sides thet give places or pelf, 
But consistency still wuz a part of his plan, — 

He's ben true to one party, — an' thet is himself ; 
So John P. 
Robinson he 
Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. 

Gineral C. he goes in fer the war ; 

He don't vally principle more'n an old cud ; 
Wut did God make us raytional creeturs fer, 

But glory an' gunpowder, plunder an' blood ? 
So John P. 
Robinson he 
Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. 



556 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

We were gittin' on nicely up here to our village,^ 

With good old idees o' wut's right an' wut aint ; 
We kind o' thought Christ went agin' war an' pillage, 
An' thet eppyletts worn't the best mark of a saint ; 
But John P. 
Robinson he 
Sez this kind o' thing's an exploded idee. 

The side of our country must oilers be took, 

An' President Polk, you know, he is our country ; 
An' the angel thet writes all our sins in a book 

Puts the debit to him, an' to us the per contry; 
An' John P. 
Robinson he 
Sez this is his view o' the thing to a T. 

Parson Wilbur he calls all these argimunts lies ; 

Sez they're nothin' on airth but jest fee, Jaw, fum : ^ — 
An' thet all this big talk of our destinies 

Is half ov it ign'ance, an' t'other half rum; 
But John P. 
Robinson he 
. Sez it aint no sech thing ; an', of course, so must we. 

Parson Wilbur sez he never heerd in his life 

Thet th' Apostles rigged out in their swaller-tail coats 
An' marched round in front of a drum an' a fife. 

To git some on 'em office, an' some on 'em votes ; 
But John P. 
Robinson he 
Sez they didn't know everythin' down in Judee. 

Wal, it's a marcy we've gut folks to tell us 

The rights an' the wrongs o' these matters, I vow ; 
God sends country lawyers, an' other wise fellers, 

To drive the world's team wen it gits in a slough ; 
Fer John P. 
Robinson he 
Sez the world '11 go right, ef he hollers out Gee ! 



SELECTIONS FROM LOWELL 557 



THE PRESENT CRISIS 

When a deed is done for Freedom, through the broad earth's aching 

breast 
Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east to west, 
And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the soul within him climb 
To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sublime 
Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the thorny stem of Time. 

Through the walls of hut and palace shoots the instantaneous throe, 
When the travail of the Ages wrings earth's systems to and fro ; 
At the birth of each new Era, with a recognizing start. 
Nation wildly looks at nation, standing with mute lips apart. 
And glad Truth's yet mightier man-child leaps beneath the Future's 
heart. 

So the Evil's triumph sendeth, with a terror and a chill, 

Under continent to continent, the sense of coming ill, 

And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels his sympathies with God ^ 

In hot tear-drops ebbing earthward, to be drunk up by the sod. 

Till a corpse crawls round unburied, delving in the nobler clod. 

For mankind are one in spirit, and an instinct bears along, 
Round the earth's electric circle, the swift flash of right or wrong ; ^ 
Whether conscious or unconscious, yet Humanity's vast frame 
Through its ocean-sundered fibres feels the gush of joy or shame ; — 
In the gain or loss of one race all the rest have equal claim.^ 

Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide. 
In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side ; 
Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight, 
Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right, 
And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light. 

Hast thou chosen, O my people, on whose party thou shalt stand, 
Ere the Doom from its worn sandals shakes the dust against our land ? 
Though the cause of Evil prosper, yet 'tis Truth alone is strong,^ 
And, albeit she wander outcast now, I see around her throng 
Troops of beautiful, tall angels, to enshield her from all wrong. 



558 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Backward look across the ages and the beacon-moments see, 
That, like peaks of some sunk continent, jut through Oblivion's sea ; 
Not an ear in court or market for the low foreboding cry 
Of those Crises, God's stern winnowers, from whose feet earth's chaff 
must fly ; 

Never shows the choice momentous till the judgment hath passed by. 
Careless seems the great Avenger ; history's pages but record 
One death-grapple in the darkness 'twixt old systems and the Word ; ^ 
Truth forever on the scaffold. Wrong forever on the throne, — 
Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown, 
Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own. 

We see dimly in the Present what is small and what is great, 
Slow of faith how weak an arm may turn the iron helm of fate, 
But the soul is still oracular ; amid the market's din, 
List the ominous stern whisper from the Delphic ^ cave within, — 
"They enslave their children's children who make compromise with 
sin." 

Slavery, the earth-born Cyclops,'^ fellest of the giant brood. 

Sons of brutish Force and Darkness, who have drenched the earth 

with blood, 
Famished in his self-made desert, blinded by our purer day, 
Gropes in yet unblasted regions for his miserable prey ; — 
Shall we guide his gory fingers where our helpless children play ? 

Then to side with truth is noble when we share her wretched crust. 
Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 'tis prosperous to be just ; 
Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward stands aside, 
Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified, 
And the multitude make virtue of the faith they had denied. 

Count me o'er the earth's chosen heroes, — they were souls that stood 

alone, 
While the men they agonized for hurled the contumelious stone, 
Stood serene, and down the future saw the golden beam incline 
To the side of perfect justice, mastered by their faith divine. 
By one man's plain truth to manhood and to God's supreme design.* 



SELECTIONS FROM LOWELL 559 

By the light of burning heretics Christ's bleeding feet I track, 
Toiling up new Calvaries ever with the Cross that turns not back, 
And these mounts of anguish number how each generation learn-d 
One new word of that grand Credo ' which in prophet-hearts hath burned 
Since the first man stood God-conquered with his face to heaven up- 
turned. 
For humanity sweeps onward : where to-day the martyr stands, 
On the morrow crouches Judas with the silver in his hands ; 
Far in front the cross stands ready and the crackling fagots burn, 
While the hooting mob of yesterday in sUent awe return 
To glean up the scattered ashes into History's golden urn. 

'Tis as easy to be heroes as to sit the idle slaves 

Of a legendary virtue carved upon our fathers' graves. 

Worshippers of light ancestral make the present light a crime ; — 

Was the Mayflower launched by cowards, steered by men behind their 

Turn'oiose tracks toward Past or Future, that make Plymouth Rock 
subUme ? lo 

They were men of present valor, stalwart old iconoclasts. 

Unconvinced by axe or gibbet that aU virtue was the Past's ; 

But we make their truth our falsehood, thinking that hath made us 

free, . . 

Hoarding it in mouldy parchments, while our tender spirits tlee 
The rude grasp of that great Impulse which drove them across the sea. 

They have rights who dare maintain them ; we are traitors to our sires, 
Smothering in their holy ashes Freedom's new-lit altar-fires ; 
ShaU we make their creed our jailer? Shall we, in our haste to slay, 
From the tombs of the old prophets steal the funeral lamps away 
To light up the martyr-fagots round the prophets of to-day? 

New occasions teach new duties ; Time makes ancient good uncouth ; 
They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth ; 
Lo before us gleam her camp-fires ! we ourselves must Pilgrims be, ^ 
Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter 

Nor luempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key. , 



560 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL 

PRELUDE TO PART FIRST ^ 

Over his keys the musing organist, 

Beginning doubtfully and far away, 
First lets his fingers wander as they list, 

And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay 
Then, as the touch of his loved instrument 

Gives hope and fervor, nearer draws his theme, 
First guessed by faint auroral flushes sent 

Along the wavering vista of his dream.^ 



Not only around our infancy 
Doth heaven with all its splendors He ; ^ 
Daily, with souls that cringe and plot, 
We Sinais climb and know it not. * 

Over our manhood bend the skies ; 

Against our fallen and traitor lives 
The great winds utter prophecies : 

With our faint hearts the mountain strives ; 
Its arms outstretched, the druid wood 

Waits with its benedicite ; 
And to our age's drowsy blood 

Still shouts the inspiring sea. 

Earth gets its price for what Earth gives us ; 

The beggar is taxed for a corner to die in. 
The priest hath his fee who comes and shrives us. 

We bargain for the graves we lie in ; 
At the Devil's booth are all things sold, 
Each ounce of dross costs its ounce of gold ; 

For a cap and bells our lives we pay. 
Bubbles we buy with a whole soul's tasking : 

'Tis heaven alone that is given away, 
'Tis only God may be had for the asking ; 
No price is set on the lavish summer ; 



SELECTIONS FROM LOWELL 561 

June may be had by the poorest comer.'* 
And what is so rare as a day in June ? ^ 

Then, if ever, come perfect days ; 
Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune. 

And over it softly her warm ear lays : ^ 
Whether we look, or whether we listen. 
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; 
Every clod feels a stir of might, 

An instinct within it that reaches and towers, 
And, groping blindly above it for light. 

Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers ; 
The flush of life may well be seen 

Thrilling back over hills and valleys; 
The cowsHp startles in meadows green. 

The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, 
And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean 

To be some happy creature's palace ; 
The little bird sits at his door in the sun, 

Atilt like a blossom among the leaves. 
And lets his illumined being o'errun 

With the deluge of summer it receives ; 
His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings. 
And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings ; 
He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest, — 
In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best ? ^ 

Now is the high-tide of the year. 

And whatever of life hath ebbed away 
Comes flooding back with a ripply cheer, 

Into every bare inlet and creek and bay ; 
Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it, 
We are happy now because God wills it ; ^ 
No matter how barren the past may have been, 
'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green ; 
We sit in the warm shade and feel right well 
How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell ; 
We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing 
That skies are clear and grass is growing ; 



562 AMERICAN LITEILATURE 

The breeze comes whispering in our ear, 
That dandeUons are blossoming near,^ 

That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing, 
That the river is bluer than the sky, 
That the robin is plastering his house hard by ; 
And if the breeze kept the good news back. 
For other couriers we should not lack ; 

We could guess it all by yon heifer's lowing, — 
And hark ! how clear bold chanticleer, 
Warmed with the new wine of the year, 

Tells all in his lusty crowing ! 

Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how ; 
Everything is happy now, 

Everything is upward striving ; 
'Tis easy now for the heart to be true 
As for grass to be green or skies to be blue, 

'Tis the natural way of Hving : 
Who knows whither the clouds have fled ? 

In the unscarred heaven they leave no wake ; 
And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, 

The heart forgets its sorrow and ache ; 
The soul partakes of the season's youth, 

And the sulphurous rifts of passion and woe 
Lie deep 'neath a silence pure and smooth, 

Like burnt-out craters healed with snow. 
What wonder if Sir Launfal now 
Remembered the keeping of his vow ? ^° 

PART FIRST 



"My golden spurs now bring to me. 
And bring to me my richest mail. 

For to-morrow I go over land and sea 
In search of the Holy Grail ; 

Shall never a bed for me be spread, 

Nor shall a pillow be under my head, 



SELECTIOXS FROM LOWELL 563 

Till I begin my vow to keep ; 

Here on the rushes will I sleep, 

And perchance there may come a vision true 

Ere day create the world anew." 

Slowly Sir Launfal's eyes grew dim, 

Slumber fell Hke a cloud on him, 
And into his soul the vision flew. 



n 

The crows flapped over by twos and threes, 
In the pool drowsed the cattle up to their knees, 
The Httle birds sang as if it were 
The one day of summer in all the year, 
And the very leaves seemed to sing on the trees : 
The castle alone in the landscape lay 
Like an outpost of winter, dull and gray : 
'Twas the proudest hall in the North Countree, 
And never its gates might opened be. 
Save to lord or lady of high degree ; 
Summer besieged it on ever}' side, 
But the churHsh stone her assaults defied ; 
She could not scale the chilly wall. 
Though around it for leagues her pavilions tall 
Stretched left and right, 
Over the hills and out of sight ; 

Green and broad was every tent. 
And out of each a murmur went 
Till the breeze fell off at night. 

Ill 

The drawbridge dropped with a surly clang, 
And through the dark arch a charger sprang. 
Bearing Sir Launfal, the maiden knight, 
In his gilded mail, that flamed so bright 
It seemed the dark castle had gathered all 
Those shafts the fierce sun had shot over its wall 



564 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

In his siege of three hundred summers long, 
And, binding them all in one blazing sheaf. 

Had cast them forth : so, young and strong, 
And lightsome as a locust-leaf. 
Sir Launfal flashed forth in his unscarred mail. 
To seek in all cHmes for the Holy Grail. 

IV 

It was morning on hill and stream and tree, 
And morning in the young knight's heart ; 

Only the castle moodily 

Rebuffed the gifts of the sunshine free. 
And gloomed by itself apart ; 

The season brimmed all other things up 

Full as the rain fills the pitcher-plant's cup. 



As Sir Launfal made morn through the darksome gate. 
He was 'ware of a leper, crouched by the same. 

Who begged with his hand and moaned as he sate ; 
And a loathing over Sir Launfal came ; 

The sunshine went out of his soul with a thrill. 

The flesh 'neath his armor 'gan shrink and crawl. 

And midway its leap his heart stood still 
Like a frozen waterfall ; 

For this man, so foul and bent of stature. 

Rasped harshly against his dainty nature, 

And seemed the one blot on the summer morn, — 

So he tossed him a piece of gold in scorn. 

VI 

The leper raised not the gold from the dust : 
"Better to me the poor man's crust, 
Better the blessing of the poor. 
Though I turn me empty from his door ; 
That is no true alms which the hand can hold ; 
He gives nothing but worthless gold 



SELECTIONS FROM LOWELL 56; 

Who gives from a sense of duty ; 
But he " who gives but a slender mite, 
And gives to that which is out of sight, 

That thread of the all-sustaining Beauty 
Which runs through all and doth all unite, — 
The hand cannot clasp the whole of his alms, 
The heart outstretches its eager palms, 
For a god goes with it and makes it store 
To the soul that was starving in darkness before." 



PRELUDE TO PART SECOND ^^ 

Down swept the chill wind from the mountain peak, 
From the snow five thousand summers old ; 

On open wold and hill-top bleak 
It had gathered all the cold. 

And whirled it like sleet on the wanderer's cheek ; 

It carried a shiver everywhere 

From the unleafed boughs and pastures bare ; 

The Httle brook heard it and built a roof ^^ 

'Neath which he could house him, winter-proof; 

All night by the white stars' frosty gleams 

He groined his arches and matched his beams ; 

Slender and clear were his crystal spars 

As the lashes of light that trim the stars ; 

He sculptured every summer delight 

In his halls and chambers out of sight ; 

Sometimes his tinkling waters slipt 

Down through a frost-leaved forest-crypt, 

Long, sparkling aisles of steel-stemmed trees 

Bending to counterfeit a breeze ; 

Sometimes the roof no fretwork knew 

But silvery mosses that downward grew ; 

Sometimes it was carved in sharp relief 

With quaint arabesques of ice-fern leaf ; 

Sometimes it was simply smooth and clear 

For the gladness of heaven to shine through, and here 



566 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

He had caught the nodding bulrush- tops 
And hung them thickly with diamond-drops, 
That crystalled the beams of moon and sun, 
And made a star of every one : 
No mortal builder's most rare device 
Could match this winter-palace of ice ; 
'Twas as if every image that mirrored lay 
In his depths serene through the summer day, 
Each fleeting shadow of earth and sky, 

Lest the happy model should be lost, 
Had been mimicked in fairy masonry 

By the elfin builders of the frost." 
Within the hall are song and laughter, 

The cheeks of Christmas grow red and jolly, 
And sprouting is every corbel ^^ and rafter 
With lightsome green of ivy and holly ; 
Through the deep gulf of the chimney wide 

Wallows the Yule-log's roaring tide ; ^^ 
The broad flame-pennons droop and flap 

And belly and tug as a flag in the wind ; 
Like a locust shrills the imprisoned sap, 

Hunted to death in its galleries bhnd ; 
And swift little troops of silent sparks, 

Now pausing, now scattering away as in fear. 
Go threading the soot-forest's tangled darks 

Like herds of startled deer. 
But the wind without was eager and sharp, 
Of Sir Launfal's gray hair it makes a harp. 
And rattles and wrings 
The icy strings. 

Singing, in dreary monotone, 

A Christmas carol of its own, 

Whose burden still, as he might guess, 

Was — "Shelterless, shelterless, shelterless!" 
The voice of the seneschal flared hke a torch 
As he shouted the wanderer away from the porch, 
And he sat in the gateway and saw all night 

The great hall-fire, so cheery and bold. 



SELECTIONS FROM LOWELL 567 

Through the window-sUts of the castle old, 
Build out its piers of ruddy light 
Against the drift of the cold. 

PART SECOND 



There was never a leaf on bush or tree, 
The bare boughs rattled shudderingly ; 
The river was dumb and could not speak, 

For the weaver Winter its shroud had spun ; 
A single crow on the tree-top bleak 

From his shining feathers shed off the cold sun ; 
Again it was morning, but shrunk and cold, 
As if her veins were sapless and old. 
And she rose up decrepit ly 
For a last dim look at earth and sea. 

n 

Sir Launfal turned from his own hard gate, 

For another heir in his earldom sate ; 

An old, bent man, worn out and frail, 

He came back from seeking the Holy Grail ; 

Little he recked of his earldom's loss, 

No more on his surcoat was blazoned the cross, 

But deep in his soul the sign he wore. 

The badge of the suffering and the poor. 

Ill 

Sir Launfal's raiment thin and spare 
Was idle mail 'gainst the barbed air, 
For it was just at the Christmas time ; 
So he mused, as he sat, of a sunnier cHme, 
And sought for a shelter from cold and snow 
In the Hght and warmth of long-ago ; 
He sees the snake-Hke caravan crawl 
O'er the edge of the desert, black and small, 



568 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Then nearer and nearer, till, one by one, 

He can count the camels in the sun. 

As over the red-hot sands they pass 

To where, in its slender necklace of grass. 

The little spring laughed and leapt in the shade. 

And with its own self like an infant played. 

And waved its signal of palms. 

IV 

''For Christ's sweet sake, I beg an alms" ; — 
The happy camels may reach the spring, 
But Sir Launfal sees only the grewsome thing, 
The leper, lank as the rain-blanched bone. 
That cowers beside him, a thing as lone 
And white as the ice-isles of Northern seas 
In the desolate horror of his disease. 



And Sir Launfal said, — "I behold in thee 

An image of Him who died on the tree ; 

Thou also hast had thy crown of thorns, — 

Thou also hast had the world's buffets and scorns. 

And to thy life were not denied 

The wounds in the hands and feet and side : 

Mild Mary's Son, acknowledge me ; 

Behold, through him, I give to Thee !" 

VI 

Then the soul of the leper stood up in his eyes 
And looked at Sir Launfal, and straightway he 

Remembered in what a haughtier guise 
He had flung an alms to leprosie. 

When he girt his young life up in gilded mail 

And set forth in search of the Holy Grail. 

The heart within him was ashes and dust ; 

He parted in twain his single crust. 

He broke the ice on the streamlet's brink, 

And gave the leper to eat and drink : 



SELECTIONS FROM LOWELL 5^9 

'Twas a mouldy crust of coarse brown bread, 

'Twas water out of a wooden bowl, — 
Yet with fine wheaten bread was the leper fed, 

And 'twas red wine he drank with his thirsty soul. 

VII 

As Sir Launfal mused with a downcast face, 

A light shone round about the place ; 

The leper no longer crouched at his side, 

But stood before him glorified, 

Shining and tall and fair and straight 

As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate.^^ — 

Himself the Gate whereby men can 

Enter the temple of God in Man. 

VIII 

His words were shed softer than leaves from the pine, 

And they fell on Sir Launfal as snows on the brine, 

That mingle their softness and quiet in one 

With the shaggy unrest they float down upon ; 

And the voice that was calmer than silence said, 

"Lo it is I, be not afraid! 

In many climes, without avail. 

Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail ; 

Behold, it is here, — this cup which thou 

Didst fill at the streamlet for Me but now ; 

This crust is My body broken for thee. 

This water His blood that died on the tree ; 

The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, 

In whatso we share with another's need : 

Not what we give, but what we share, — 

For the gift without the giver is bare ; 

Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, — 

Himself, his hungering neighbor, and Me." ^» 

IX 

Sir Launfal awoke as from a swound : — 
*'The Grail in my castle here is found ! 



570 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Hang my idle armor up on the wall, 
Let it be the spider's banquet-hall ; 
He must be fenced with stronger mail 
Who would seek and find the Holy Grail." 



The castle gate stands open now, 

And the wanderer is welcome to the hall 

As the hangbird is to the elm-tree bough ; ^^ 
No longer scowl the turrets tall, 

The Summer's long siege at last is o'er ; 

When the first poor outcast went in at the door, 

She entered with him in disguise, 

And mastered the fortress by surprise ; 

There is no spot she loves so well on ground, 

She lingers and smiles there the whole year round ; 

The meanest serf on Sir Launfal's land 

Has hall and bower at his command ; 

And there's no poor man in the North Countree 

But is lord of the earldom as much as he. 



NOTES TO LOWELL 571 



NOTES TO LOWELL 

The selections from Lowell are intended to illustrate his different styles of 
writing. For a general introduction, read the sketch of the poet in Part First. 

What Mr. Robinson Thinks 

This selection is from the first series of the "Biglow Papers." It illus- 
trates Lowell's manner and power as a satirist ; and to use the words of a biog- 
rapher, it "tickled the public amazingly," especially those who were opposed 
to the Mexican War. 

As we learn from the editorial remarks of the Rev, Homer Wilbur, the satire 
of the verses "was not meant to have any personal, but only a general, appli- 
cation. Of the gentleman upon whose letter they were intended as a com- 
mentary Mr. Biglow had never heard, till he saw the letter itself. The position 
of the satirist is often times one which he would not have chosen, had the election 
been left to himself. In attacking bad principles, he is obliged to select some 
individual who has made himself their exponent, and in whom they are im- 
personate." 

1. George N. Briggs (i 796-1861), a lawyer, judge, member of Congress, 
and Whig governor of Massachusetts from 1844 to 1851. 

2. Caleb Cushing (1800-1879), a lawyer, statesman, and author of ability 
and learning. In politics he belonged originally to the Jeffersonian Republican 
party, then turned Whig, and afterwards, with President Tyler, drifted over to 
the other side. He advocated the Mexican War in the face of strong opposition 
from the people of Massachusetts, He commanded a regiment in the war, and 
rose to the ranks of brigadier-general. While in Mexico he was nominated by 
the Democrats as governor of Massachusetts. The satire of this and the follow- 
ing stanza was very cutting. 

3. Jaalam, where lived Hosea Biglow and Parson Wilbur. 

4. Per contry = per contra, contrariwise. 

5. Fee, faw, fum = nonsense. 

The Present Crisis 

This poem brings Lowell before us as a preacher or reformer. It is written 
in heroic and prophetic mood. What it lacks in polish, it gains in force. We 
recognize something of Emerson's philosophy, with which, as we have seen, 
Lowell was much impressed in early manhood. The poem was written in 1845, 



572 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

when the question of annexing Texas was before the country. This annexa- 
tion was opposed by the anti-slavery party on the ground that it would 
strengthen the South. 

1. This is Emersonian, recognizing the presence of God in nature and 
humanity. 

2. This line contains a reference to the electric telegraph, which had been 
put into operation only a short time before the poem was written. 

3. This is a strong assertion of the solidarity of the human race, a truth 
not yet sufficiently understood. 

4. This line recalls Bryant's well-known lines, — 

"Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again; 
The eternal years of God are hers." 

All our great singers have had this same faith in the power of truth. 

5. A reference to John i. i : "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word 
was with God, and the Word was God." 

6. The oracle at Delphi in Greece was very celebrated. Consult a good 
encyclopaedia. 

7. Cyclops, meaning round eye, was the name anciently applied to a fabu- 
lous race of giants. The reference throughout this stanza is to Polyphemus of 
Sicily. According to Homer, when Ulysses landed on this island, he entered 
the cave of Polyphemus with twelve companions, of whom the gigantic cannibal 
devoured six. The others expected the same fate ; but their cunning leader made 
Polyphemus drunk, then thrust a burning stake into. his single eye, and thus 
made his escape, leaving the blinded monster to grope about in darkness. 

8. Can you name any of the heroes referred to in this stanza ? 

9. Credo = creed; so called, because in Latin the Apostles' Creed begins 
with this word, meaning "I believe." The idea here presented, namely, that 
the creed of humanity is being slowly built up through the ages, is a grand one, 

10. The meaning of this line may be given as follows : "Do these tracks, 
that make Plymouth Rock sublime, turn toward the Past or toward the 
Future?" The poet's answer is, of course, "Toward the Future." 

The Vision of Sir Launfal 

The following note was prefixed to the first edition published in 1848: 
"According to the mythology of the Romancers, the San Greal, or Holy Grail, 
was the cup out of which Jesus Christ partook the last supper with his disciples. 
It was brought into England by Joseph of Arimathea, and remained there, 
an object of pilgrimage and adoration, for many years in the keeping of his 
lineal descendants. It was incumbent upon those who had charge of it to be 
chaste in thought, word, and deed; but, one of the keepers having broken 
this condition, the Holy Grail disappeared. From that time it was a favorite 



NOTES TO LOWELL , 573 

enterprise of the Knights of Arthur's court to go in search of it. Sir Galahad 
was at last successful in finding it, as may be read in the seventeenth book of 
the Romance of King Arthur. Tennyson has made Sir Galahad the subject of 
one of the most exquisite of his poems. 

"The plot (if I may give that name to anything so slight) of the following 
poem is my own ; and, to serve its purposes, I have enlarged the circle of com- 
petition in search of the miraculous cup in such a manner as to include not only 
other persons than the heroes of the Round Table, but also a period of time sub- 
sequent to the date of King Arthur's reign," 

1. Note how each of the two Preludes is in harmony with the part of the 
story that follows. Nature is brought into sympathy with Sir Launfal. The 
great popularity of the poem is due in no small degree to the beautiful descrip- 
tions of nature in the Preludes. 

2. These opening lines are admirable, both for the picture of the musing 
organist, and for the melody of the stanza. 

3. A reference to the well-known and beautiful passage in Wordsworth's 
famous Ode : — 

"Heaven lies about us in our infancy; 
Shades of the prison-house begin to close 
Upon the growing boy." 

In the inspiring lines that follow, Lowell teaches that heaven is continually 
about us, — bending over our manhood, and speaking encouragement to old 
age. 

4. Observe the contrast in this stanza between "Earth gets its price," 
with the instances that follow, and — 

"'Tis heaven alone that is given away." 

5. June was the favorite month of Lowell, as May was of the English poets. 
In the poem, "Under the Willows," which gives name to a volume of his verse, 
he dwells on the charm of June at considerable length. He says, — 

"June is the pearl of our New England year;" 
but — 

"May is a pious fraud of the almanac, 
A ghastly parody of real spring." 

6. This figure is taken from the musician, who places his ear close to his 
violin to determine whether it be in tune. 

7. "What Lowell loves most in nature," says Stedman, "are the trees and 
their winged inhabitants, and the flowers that grow untended. The singing 
of birds, as we learn in both his prose and verse, enraptured him." In his 



574 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

poem "An Indian-Summer Reverie," in which his love of nature is most fully 
set forth, we find the following exquisite Unes : — 

"Meanwhile that devil-may-care, the boboUnk, 
Remembering duty, in mid-quaver stops 
Just ere he sweeps o'er rapture's tremulous brink. 
And twixt the windrows most demurely drops." 

8. This line illustrates Lowell's deep religious nature. The whole poem, 
indeed, is suffused with religious feeling. Though discarding something of 
the creed of his ancestry, he had a strong faith in the presence and love of God. 

"Through ways unlooked for and through many lands, 
Far from the rich folds built with human hands, 
The gracious footprints of his love I see." 

9. Lowell was fond of the dandelion, which gives name to one of his fine 

poems : — 

' "Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way, 

Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold." 

10. Not unlike the musing organist, the poet has been letting his fingers 
wander as they list. But in these two lines his theme has at length drawn near. 

11. Note the solecism in the use of " Ag." 

12. This Prelude describes winter, which was a favorite season with Lowell. 
In "An Indian-Summer Reverie," there are beautiful descriptions of winter 
scenes. And in his essay, "A Good Word for Winter," we have a delightful 
presentation of its varied charms. "For my part," he says, "I think Winter a 
pretty wide-awake old boy, and his bluff sincerity and hearty ways are more 
congenial to my mood, and more wholesome for me, than any charms of which 
his rivals are capable." 

13. In a letter written in December, 1848, Lowell refers to "the little 
brook" : "Last night I walked to Watertown over the snow, with the new 
moon before me, and a sky exactly like that in Page's evening landscape. 
Orion was rising behind me; and, as I stood on the hill just before you enter 
the village, the stillness of the fields around me was delicious, broken only by 
the tinkle of a little brook which runs too swiftly for Frost to catch it. My 
picture of the brook in 'Sir Launfal' was drawn from it." 

14. This stanza exemplifies a fine employment of the fancy. Its separate 
pictures should be clearly brought before the mind. Explain ''crypt," "re- 
lief," and ''arabesques." 

15. Corbel = a short piece of timber or other material jutting out in a wall 
as a shoulder-piece. 

16. Yule-log = Christmas-log; that is, the large log burned in the fire- 



NOTES TO LOWELL 575 

place on Christmas Eve. The custom descended from heathen times. From 
Swedish and Danish jw/, Christmas. 

17. Beautiful Gate is apparently a reference to Acts iii. 2, and Josephus 
("The Jewish War," Book V, chap, v., 3), where a magnificent column, fifty 
cubits in height, is described in connection with a gate supposed by some to 
be the "gate Beautiful" of Scripture. 

18. This lesson of human sympathy and love is one that Lowell frequently 
enforces. In "A Parable," Christ is made to say to the chief priests and rulers 
and kings : — 

"Have ye founded your thrones and altars, then, 
On the bodies and souls of living men ? 
And think ye that building shall endure, 
Which shelters the noble and crushes the poor?" 

19. In his "My Garden Acquaintances," Lowell devoted a delightful para- 
graph to the oriole, or hangbird, mentioning especially its nest in the elm. 



576 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



XV 
SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER 

MEMORIES 

A BEAUTIFUL and happy girl, 

With step as hght as summer air, 
Eyes glad with smiles, and brow of pearl. 
Shadowed by many a careless curl 

Of unconfined and flowing hair, 
A seeming child in everything, 

Save thoughtful brow and ripening charms, 
As Nature wears the smile of Spring 

When sinking into Summer's arms. 

A mind rejoicing in the light 

Which melted through its graceful bower, 
Leaf after leaf, dew-moist and bright. 
And stainless in its holy white. 

Unfolding like a morning flower : ^ 
A heart, which, hke a fine-toned lute. 

With every breath of feeling woke, 
And, even when the tongue was mute, 

From eye and lip in music spoke. 

How thrills once more the lengthening chain 

Of memory, at the thought of thee ! 
Old hopes which long in dust have lain, 
Old dreams, come thronging back again, 

And boyhood lives again in me ; 
I feel its glow upon my cheek. 

Its fulness of the heart is mine. 
As when I leaned to hear thee speak, 

Or raised my doubtful eye to thine. 



SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER 577 

I hear again thy low replies, 

I feel thy arm within my own, 
And timidly again uprise 
The fringed lids of hazel eyes, 

With soft brown tresses overblown. 
Ah ! memories of sweet summer eves, 

Of moonlit wave and willowy way. 
Of stars and flowers, and dewy leaves, 

And smiles and tones more dear than they ! 

Ere this, thy quiet eye hath smiled 

My picture of thy youth to see, 
When, half a woman, half a child, 
Thy very artlessness beguiled, 

And folly's self seemed wise in thee ; 
I too can smile, when o'er that hour 

The lights of memory backward stream, 
Yet feel the while that manhood's power 

Is vainer than my boyhood's dream. 

Years have passed on, and left their trace, 

Of graver care and deeper thought ; 
And unto me the calm, cold face 
Of manhood, and to thee the grace 

Of woman's pensive beauty brought. 
More wide, perchance, for blame than praise. 

The school-boy's humble name has flown ; 
Thine, in the green and quiet ways 

Of unobtrusive goodness known. 

And wider yet in thought and deed 

Diverge our pathways, one in youth ; 
Thine the Genevan's sternest creed,^ 
While answers to my spirit's need 

The Derby dalesman's simple truth. ^ 
For thee, the priestly rite and prayer. 

And holy day and solemn psalm ; 
For me, the silent reverence where 

My brethren gather, slow and calm. 



578 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Yet hath thy spirit left on me 

An impress Time hath worn not out, 
And something of myself in thee, 
A shadow from the past, I see, 

Lingering, even yet, thy way about ; 
Not wholly can the heart unlearn 

That lesson of its better hours. 
Not yet hath Time's dull footstep worn 

To common dust that path of flowers. 

Thus, while at times before our eyes 

The shadows melt, and fall apart, 
And, smiling through them, round us lies 
The warm light of our morning skies, — 

The Indian Summer of the heart ! 
In secret sympathies of mind. 

In founts of feehng which retain 
Their pure, fresh flow, we yet may find 

Our early dreams not wholly vain ! 



THE SHIP-BUILDERS 

The sky is ruddy in the east. 

The earth is gray below, 
And, spectral in the river-mist, 

The ship's white timbers show. 
Then let the sounds of measured stroke 

And grating saw begin ; 
The broad-axe to the gnarled oak. 

The mallet to the pin ! 

Hark ! — roars the bellows, blast on blast, 

The sooty smithy ^ jars. 
And fire-sparks, rising far and fast, 

Are fading with the stars. 
All day for us the smith shall stand 

Beside that flashing forge ; 
All day for us his heavy hand 

The groaning anvil scourge. ^ 



SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER 579 

From far-off hills, the panting team 

For us is toiling near ; 
For us the raftsmen down the stream 

Their island barges ' steer. 
Rings out for us the axe-man's stroke 

In forests old and still, — 
For us the century-circled oak 

Falls crashing down his hill. 

Up ! — up ! — in nobler toil than ours 

No craftsmen bear a part : 
We make of Nature's giant powers 

The slaves of human Art. 
Lay rib to rib, and beam to beam, 

And drive the treenails ^ free ; 
Nor faithless joint nor yawning seam 

Shall tempt the searching sea ! 

Where'er the keel of our good ship 

The sea's rough field shall plough, — 
Where'er her tossing spars ^ shall drip 

With salt-spray caught below, — 
That ship must heed her master's beck, 

Her helm obey his hand, 
And seamen tread her reehng deck 

As if they trod the land. 

Her oaken ribs the vulture-beak 

Of Northern ice may peel ; 
The sunken rock and coral peak 

May grate along her keel ; 
And know we well the painted shell 

We give to wind and wave, 
Must float, the sailor's citadel. 

Or sink, the sailor's grave ! 

Ho ! — strike away the bars and blocks, 

And set the good ship free ! 
Why lingers on these dusty rocks 



580 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

The young bride of the sea? 
Look ! how she moves adown the grooves, 

In graceful beauty now ! 
How lowly on the breast she loves 

Sinks down her virgin prow ! 

God bless her ! wheresoe'er the breeze 

Her snowy wing shall fan, 
Aside the frozen " Hebrides, 

Or sultry Hindostan ! 
Where'er, in mart or on the main, 

With peaceful flag unfurled, 
She helps to wind the silken chain 

Of commerce round the world ! 

Speed on the ship ! — But let her bear 

No merchandise of sin, 
No groaning cargo of despair 

Her roomy hold within ; 
No Lethean drug for Eastern lands, 

Nor poison-draught for ours ; 
But honest fruits of toiling hands 

And Nature's sun and showers.* 

Be hers the Prairie's golden grain. 

The Desert's golden sand. 
The clustered fruits of sunny Spain, 

The spice of Morning-land ! 
Her pathway on the open main 

May blessings follow free, 
And glad hearts welcome back again 

Her white sails from the sea ! 



BARCLAY OF URY 

Up the streets of Aberdeen,^ 
By the kirk and college green. 
Rode the Laird of Ufy ; 



SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER 581 

Close behind him, close beside, 
Foul of mouth and evil-eyed 
Pressed the mob in fury. 

Flouted him the drunken churl, 
Jeered at him the serving-girl, 

Prompt to please her master ; 
And the begging carlin,- late 
Fed and clothed at Ury's gate, 

Cursed him as he passed her. 

Yet with calm and stately mien. 
Up the streets of Aberdeen 

Came he slowly riding : 
And, to all he saw and heard. 
Answering not with bitter word, 

Turning not for chiding. 

Came a troop with broadswords swinging, 
Bits and bridles sharply ringing, 

Loose and free and froward : 
Quoth the foremost, "Ride him down I 
Push him ! prick him ! through the town 

Drive the Quaker coward !" 

But from out the thickening crowd 
Cried a sudden voice and loud : 

"Barclay! Ho! a Barclay!" 
And the old man at his side 
Saw a comrade, battle tried. 

Scarred and sunburned darkly ; 

Who with ready weapon bare. 
Fronting to the troopers there. 

Cried aloud : " God save us, 
Call ye coward him who stood 
Ankle deep in Liitzen's ^ blood. 

With the brave Gustavus?" 



AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"Nay, I do not need thy sword, 
Comrade mine," said Ury's lord ; 

"Put it up, I pray thee : 
Passive to his holy will, 
Trust I in my Master still, 

Even though he slay me. 

"Pledges of thy love and faith. 
Proved on many a field of death, 
Not by me are needed." 
Marvelled much that henchman bold, 
That his laird, so stout of old, 
Now so meekly pleaded. 

"Woe's the day!" he sadly said. 
With a slowly shaking head, 

And a look of pity ; 
Ury's honest lord reviled, 
Mock of knave and sport of child. 

In his own good city I 

"Speak the word, and master, mine, 
As we charged on Tilly's ^ line. 

And his Walloon ^ lancers. 
Smiting through their midst we'll teach 
Civil look and decent speech 

To these boyish prancers !" 

"Marvel not, mine ancient friend. 
Like beginning, like the end," 

Quoth the Laird of Ury ; 
"Is the sinful servant more 
Than his gracious Lord who bore 

Bonds and stripes in Jewry? 

"Give me joy that in his name 
I can bear, with patient frame, 

All these vain ones offer ; 
While for them He suffereth long, 
Shall I answer wrong with wrong. 

Scoffing with the scoffer? 



SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER 583 

"Happier I, with loss of all, 
Hunted, outlawed, held in thrall, 

With few friends to greet me, 
Than when reeve "^ and squire were seen, 
Riding out from Aberdeen, 

With bared heads to meet me. 

"When each good wife, o'er and o'er, 
Blessed me as I passed her door ; 

And the snooded " daughter. 
From her casement glancing down. 
Smiled on him who bore renown 

From red fields of slaughter. 

"Hard to feel the stranger's scoff. 
Hard the old friend's faUing off, 

Hard to learn forgiving : 
But the Lord his own rewards, 
And his love with theirs accords, 

Warm and fresh and living. 

"Through this dark and stormy night 
Faith beholds a feeble light 

Up the blackness streaking; 
Knowing God's own time is best. 
In a patient hope I rest 

For the full day-breaking!" 

So the Laird of Ury said. 
Turning slow his horse's head 

Towards the Tolbooth prison, 
Where, through iron grates, he heard 
Poor disciples of the Word 

Preach of Christ arisen ! 

Not in vain. Confessor old. 
Unto us the tale is told 

Of thy day of trial ; 
Every age on him, who strays 
From its broad and beaten ways. 

Pours its sevenfold vial. 



584 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Happy he whose inward ear 
Angel comfortings can hear, 

O'er the rabble's laughter ; 
And while Hatred's fagots burn, 
Glimpses through the smoke discern 

Of the good hereafter. 

Knowing this, that never yet 
Share of Truth was vainly set 

In the World's wide fallow ; 
After hands shall sow the seed, 
After hands from hill and mead 

Reap the harvests yellow. 

Thus, with somewhat of the Seer, 
Must the moral pioneer 

From the Future borrow ; 
Clothe the waste with dreams of grain, 
And, on midnight's sky of rain, 

Paint the golden morrow ! 



MAUD MULLER 



Maud Muller on a summer's day 
Raked the meadow sweet with hay. 

Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth 
Of simple beauty and rustic health. 

Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee 
The mock-bird echoed from his tree. 

But when she glanced to the far-oif town, 
White from its hill-slope looking down. 

The sweet song died, and a vague unrest 
And a nameless longing filled her breast — 

A wish, that she hardly dared to own. 
For something better than she had known. 



SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER S^i 

The Judge rode slowly down the lane, 
Smoothing his horse's chestnut mane. 

He drew his bridle in the shade 

Of the apple-trees, to greet the maid, 

And asked a draught from the spring that flowed 
Through the meadow across the road. 

She stooped where the cool spring bubbled up, 
And filled for him her small tin cup, 

And blushed as she gave it, looking down 
On her feet so bare, and her tattered gown. 

"Thanks !" said the Judge ; "a sweeter draught 
From a fairer hand was never quaffed." 

He spoke of the grass and flowers and trees, 
Of the singing birds and the humming-bees ; 

Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether 
The cloud in the west would bring foul weather. 

And Maud forgot her brier-torn gown, 
And her graceful ankles bare and brown ; 

And listened, while a pleased surprise 
Looked from her long-lashed hazel eyes. 

At last, Hke one who for delay 
Seeks a vain excuse, he rode away. 

Maud Muller looked and sighed : " Ah me ! 
That I the Judge's bride might be ! 

"He would dress me up in silks so fine, 
And praise and toast me at his wine. 

"My father should wear a broadcloth coat; 
My brother should sail a painted boat. 



586 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

"I'd dress my mother so grand and gay, 

And the baby should have a new toy each day. 

''And I'd feed the hungry and clothe the poor, 
And all should bless me who left our door." 

The Judge looked back as he climbed the hill, 
And saw Maud Muller standing still. 

"A form more fair, a face more sweet 
Ne'er hath it been my lot to meet. 

"And her modest answer and graceful air 
Show her wise and good as she is fair. 

"Would she were mine, and I to-day, 
Like her, a harvester of hay : 

"No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs, 
Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues, 

"But low of cattle and song of birds, 
And health and quiet and loving words." 

But he thought of his sisters proud and cold. 
And his mother vain of her rank and gold. 

So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on, 
And Maud was left in the field alone. 

But the lawyers smiled that afternoon. 
When he hummed in court an old love-tune ; 

And the young girl mused beside the well 
Till the rain on the unraked clover fell. 

He wedded a wife of richest dower. 
Who lived for fashion as he for power. 

Yet oft, in his marble hearth's bright glow, 
He watched a picture come and go ; 



SELECTIONS FROM WUITTIER 587 

And sweet Maud Muller's hazel eyes 
Looked out in their innocent surprise. 

Oft, when the wine in his glass was red, 
He longed for the wayside well instead ; 

And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms 
To dream of meadows and clover-blooms. 

And the proud man sighed, with a secret pain, 
"Ah, that I were free again ! 

"Free as when I rode that day, 

Where the barefoot maiden raked her hay." 

She wedded a man unlearned and poor. 
And many children played round her door. 

But care and sorrow, and childbirth pain. 
Left their traces on heart and brain. 

And oft, when the summer sun shone hot 
On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot, 

And she heard the little spring brook fall 
Over the roadside, through the wall. 

In the shade of the apple-tree again 
She saw a rider draw his rein. 

And, gazing down with timid grace. 
She felt his pleased eyes read her face. 

Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls 
Stretched away into stately halls ; 

The weary wheel to a spinnet * turned, 
The tallow candle an astral ^ burned, 

And for him who sat by the chimney lug, 
Dozing and grumbling o'er pipe and mug, 



588 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

A manly form at her side she saw, 
And joy was duty and love was law. 

Then she took up her burden of life again, 
Saying only, *'It might have been." 

Alas for maiden, alas for Judge, 

For rich repiner and household drudge ! 

God pity them both ! and pity us all, 
Who vainly the dreams of youth recall. 

For of all sad words of tongue or pen, 

The saddest are these : "It might have been !" 

Ah, well ! for us all some sweet hope lies 
Deeply buried from human eyes ; 

And, in the hereafter, angels may 
Roll the stone from its grave away ! 



TAULER 



Tauler,^ the preacher, walked, one autumn day. 
Without the walls of Strasburg by the Rhine, 
Pondering the solemn Miracle of Life ; 
As one who, wandering in a starless night, 
Feels, momently, the jar of unseen waves, 
And hears the thunder of an unknown sea, 
Breaking along an unimagined shore. 

And as he walked he prayed. Even the same 
Old prayer with which, for half a score of years. 
Morning, and noon, and evening, lip and heart 
Had groaned : "Have pity upon me. Lord ! 
Thou seest, while teaching others, I am Wind. 
Send me a man who can direct my steps ! " 

Then, as he mused, he heard along his path 
A sound as of an old man's staff among 



SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER 589 

The dry, dead linden-leaves ; and, looking up, 
He saw a stranger, weak, and poor, and old. 

"Peace be unto thee, father !" Tauler said, 
" God give thee a good day ! " The old man raised 
Slowly his calm blue eyes. "I thank thee, son ; 
But all my days are good, and none are ill." 

Wondering thereat, the preacher spake again, 
"God give thee happy hfe." The old man smiled, 
"I never am unhappy." 

Tauler laid 
His hand upon the stranger's coarse gray sleeve : 
"Tell me, O father, what thy strange words mean. 
Surely man's days are evil, and his hfe 
Sad as the grave it leads to." "Nay, my son, 
Our times are in God's hands, and all our days 
Are as our needs ; for shadow as for sun, 
For cold as heat, for want as wealth, alike 
Our thanks are due, since that is best which is ; 
And that which is not, sharing not his life, 
Is evil only as devoid of good. 
And for the happiness of which I spake, 
I find it in submission to his will. 
And calm trust in the holy Trinity 
Of Knowledge, Goodness, and Almighty Power." 
Silently wondering, for a little space, 
Stood the great preacher, then he spake as one 
Who, suddenly grappling with a haunting thought 
Which long has followed, whispering through the dark 
Strange terrors, drags it, shrieking, into light ; 
"What if God's will consign thee hence to Hell?" 

"Then," said the stranger cheerily, "be it so. 
What Hell may be I know not ; this I know, — 
I cannot lose the presence of the Lord : 
One arm, Humihty, takes hold upon 
His dear Humanity ; the other. Love, 



590 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Clasps his Divinity. So where I go 

He goes ; and better fire-walled Hell with Him 

Than golden-gated Paradise without." 

Tears sprang in Tauler's eyes. A sudden light, 
Like the first ray which fell on chaos, clove 
Apart the shadow wherein he had walked 
Darkly at noon. And, as the strange old man 
Went his slow way, until his silver hair 
Set like the white moon where the hills of vine 
Slope to the Rhine, he bowed his head and said : 
"My prayer is answered. God hath sent the man 
Long sought, to teach me, by his simple trust, 
Wisdom the weary schoolmen never knew." 

So, entering with a changed and cheerful step 

The city gates, he saw, far down the street, 

A mighty shadow break the light of noon, 

Which tracing backward till its airy lines 

Hardened to stony plinths,^ he raised his eyes 

O'er broad fagade and lofty pediment,^ 

O'er architrave * and frieze and sainted niche, 

Up the stone lace-work chiselled by the wise 

Erwin of Steinbach,^ dizzily up to where 

In the noon-brightness the great Minster's tower,* 

Jewelled with sunbeams on its mural crown. 

Rose like a visible prayer. "Behold !" he said, 

"The stranger's faith made plain before mine eyes. 

As yonder tower outstretches to the earth 

The dark triangle of its shade alone 

When the clear day is shining on its top, 

So, darkness in the pathway of Man's life 

Is but the shadow of God's providence. 

By the great Sun of Wisdom cast thereon ; 

And what is dark below is hght in Heaven." 



NOTES TO WHITTIER 59 1 



NOTES TO WHITTIER 
For a general introduction to the selections, see the sketch of Whittier. 

Memories 

There is great tenderness in this poem. It points to a romance that left 
a tinge of sadness on the poet's life. 

1. This sentence is neither felicitous nor clear. The poet was encumbered 
by the difficulties of his metre and rhyme. "Leaf after leaf," etc., describes 
the manner in which the mind unfolded "like a morning flower." 

2. The Genevan is John Calvin. His theological system is known as Cal- 
vinism. Its distinguishing features are: i. Original sin, or total depravity; 
2. Predestination; 3. Particular redemption; 4. Effectual calling; and 
5. Perseverance of the saints. To the Quaker poet several of these doctrines 
appeared " stem." 

3. The Derby dalesman is George Fox fborn in England in 1624), the founder 
of the sect of Friends, or Quakers. The most distinctive point of doctrine 
is their belief in the immediate influence of the Holy Spirit in worship and all 
other religious acts. 

The Ship-Builders 

This poem is one of the "Songs of Labor." The object of these songs, as 
stated in the dedication, is to show. — 

"The unsung beauty hid life's common things below." 

They were intended to reflect the life of New England, but they are equally 
applicable to the same labors in all parts of our country. 

1. Smithy = the shop of a smith. This suggests Longfellow's lines: — 

"Under a spreading chestnut-tree 
The village smithy stands." 

2. Scourge and forge will serve to illustrate WTiittier's defective rhyme. 
There are several other instances in this poem; point them out. 

3. Explain the phrase island barges. 

4. Define Art as here used. 

5. Treenail = a long wooden pin used in fastening the planks of a ship 
to the timbers. 

6. Spars is a general term for mast, yard, boom, and gaff. 



592 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

7. This adjective is not well chosen. "Enjoying the benefit of the Gulf 
Stream, the climate of the Hebrides is peculiarly mild. Snow seldom lies long 
on the sea-shores or low grounds, and in sheltered spots tender plants are not 
nipped by winter frosts." 

8. In this stanza we discern the uncompromising moralist, who condemns 
everything that debases society, — the slave-trade, the opium traffic, and the 
liquor curse. 

Barclay of Ury 

In reference to this poem, Whittier has the following note: "Among the 
earliest converts to the doctrines of Friends in Scotland was Barclay of Ury, 
an old and distinguished soldier, who had fought under Gustavus Adolphusin 
Germany. As a Quaker, he became the object of persecution and abuse at 
the hands of the magistrates and the populace. None bore the indignities of 
the mob with greater patience and nobleness of soul than this once proud 
gentleman and soldier. One of his friends, on an occasion of uncommon 
rudeness, lamented that he should be treated so harshly in his old age who had 
been so honored before. *I find more satisfaction,' said Barclay, 'as well as 
honor, in being thus insulted for my religious principles, than when, a few 
years ago, it was usual for the magistrates, as I passed the city of Aberdeen, to 
meet me on the road and conduct me to public entertainment in their hall 
and then escort me out again, to gain my favor.' " 

1. Aberdeen is the chief city and seaport in the north of Scotland, at the 
mouth of the river Dee. It is the seat of Marischal College, referred to in the 
next line. In i860 this college, united with King's College, became the Univer- 
sity of Aberdeen. 

2. Carlin = a stout old woman ; a Scottish word. 

3. Liitzen is a small town in Saxony. At this point a great battle was fought 
in 1632 between Gustavus Adolphus and Wallenstein. Victory finally remained 
with the Swedes. 

4. Tilly was one of the greatest generals of the seventeenth century. During 
the Thirty Years' War he was victor in thirty-six battles; but finally he met 
Gustavus Adolphus, by whom he was defeated. 

5. The Walloons are descendants of the old GalUc Belgae, "who held their 
ground among the Ardennes Mountains when the rest of Gaul was overrun by 
the German conquerors." They number about two millions in Belgium and 
Holland. 

6. Reeve = an officer, steward. A. S. gerefa, steward. Obsolete except 
in compounds; as, shire-reeve, now written sheriff. 

7. Snooded = wearing a snood ; that is, a band which binds the hair of a 
young, unmarried woman. (Scot.) 



NOTES TO WHITTIER 593 



Maud Muller 

This is, perhaps, the most popular of Whittier's poems. It is remarkably 
clear throughout. It illustrates the thoughtful moral tone of the poet; and 
the last stanzas, with their touching sadness, seem to have sprung from his 
own experience. This fact gives them an additional interest. The poet has 
been mildly criticised for calling the heroine, a plain New England country 
girl, by the name of Maud ; but it is not easy to think of any other name that 
would have suited better. 

1. Spinnel = a musical instrument resembling the harpsichord, but of 
smaller size and lighter tone. 

2. Astral = astral lamp; a lamp with a ring-shaped reservoir so placed 
that its shadow does not fall directly below the flame. 

Tauler 

"The religious element in Whittier's poems," says Underwood, "is some- 
thing vital and inseparable. The supremacy of moral ideas is indeed inculcated 
by almost all great poets, and at no time more than in the present. And in 
almost all modem verse the filial relation of man to his Creator, and the im- 
manence of the Spirit in the human heart, are at least tacitly recognized. The 
leading poets of America are, one and all, reverent in feeling and tone. But it is 
quite evident that Whittier alone is religious in a high and inward sense." 
His deep religious feeling is exhibited in this poem. 

1. John Tauler (i 290-1361) was bom at Strasburg, where he spent most of 
his life. He was one of the most prominent representatives of mediaeval 
German mysticism, and one of the greatest preachers of his time. His words 
"came home to the heart of both high and low, spreading light everywhere, and 
justly procuring for him the title of doctor illuntinatus." 

2. Plinth = "the square member at the bottom of the base of a column. 
Also the plain projecting band forming a base of a wall." — Chambers. 

3. Pediment = the triangular ornamental space over a portico, or over 
doors, windows, and gates. 

4. Architrave = the part of an entablature that rests immediately on the 
coluiim. Above the architrave is the frieze. See Dictionary for illustration. 

5. Erwin of Steinbach was one of the architects of the Strasburg Cathedral, 
which was four centuries in building. 

6. This tower reaches to a height of 465 feet. 



594 AMERICAN LITERATURE 



XVI 
SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES 

OLD IRONSIDES 

Ay, tear her tattered ensign down ! 

Long has it waved on high, 
And many an eye has danced to see 

That banner in the sky ; 
Beneath it rung the battle shout, 

And burst the cannon's roar ; — 
The meteor of the ocean air 

Shall sweep the clouds no more ! 

Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, 

Where knelt the vanquished foe. 
When winds were hurrying o'er the flood 

And waves were white below, 
No more shall feel the victor's tread. 

Or know the conquered knee ; — 
The harpies ^ of the shore shall pluck 

The eagle of the sea. 

O better that her shattered hulk 

Should sink beneath the wave ; 
Her thunders shook the mighty deep, 

And there should be her grave ; 
Nail to the mast her holy flag, 

Set every threadbare sail, 
And give her to the god of storms,^ 

The Ughtning and the gale. 



SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES 595 

THE LAST LEAF 

I SAW him once before, 
As he passed by the door, 

And again 
The pavement stones resound, 
As he totters o'er the ground 

With his cane. 

They say that in his prime, 
Ere the pruning-knife of Time 

Cut him down, 
Not a better man was found 
By the Crier on his round 

Through the town. 

But now he walks the streets, 
And he looks at all he meets 

Sad and wan. 
And he shakes his feeble head, 
That it seems as if he said, 

"They are gone." 

The mossy marbles rest 

On the Hps that he has prest 

In their bloom, 
And the names he loved to hear 
Have been carved for many a year 

On the tomb. 

My grandmamma has said — 
Poor old lady, she is dead 

Long ago — 
That he had a Roman nose, 
And his cheek was like a rose 

In the snow. 

But now his nose is thin, 
And it rests upon his chin 
Like a staff. 



596 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

And a crook is in his back, 
And a melancholy crack 
In his laugh. 

I know it is a sin 
For me to sit and grin 

At him here ; 
But the old three-cornered hat, 
And the breeches, and all that, 

Are so queer ! 

And if I should live to be 
The last leaf upon the tree 

In the spring, 
Let them smile, as I do now, 
At the old forsaken bough 

Where I cling. 



THE HEIGHT OF THE RIDICULOUS 

I WROTE some lines once on a time 

In wondrous merry mood, 
And thought, as usual, men would say 

They were exceeding good. 

They were so queer, so very queer, 

I laughed as I would die ; 
Albeit, in the general way, 

A sober man am I. 

I called my servant, and he came ; 

How kind it was of him 
To mind a slender man like me. 

He of the mighty limb ! 

"These to the printer," I exclaimed. 

And, in my humorous way, 
I added (as a trifling jest) 

"There'll be the devil to pay." 



SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES 597 

He took the paper, and I watched, 

And saw him peep within ; 
At the first Une he read, his face 

Was all upon the grin. 

He read the next ; the grin grew broad, 

And shot from ear to ear ; 
He read the third ; a chuckling noise 

I now began to hear. 

The fourth ; he broke into a roar ; 

The fifth ; his waistband split ; 
The sixth ; he burst five buttons off, 

And tumbled in a fit. 

Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye, 

I watched that wretched man ; 
And since, I never dare to write 

As funny as I can. 



THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS 

Tras is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, 

Sails the unshadowed main, — 

The venturous bark that flings 
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings 
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren ^ sings, 

And coral reefs lie bare. 
Where the cold sea-maids ^ rise to sun their streaming hair. 

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl ; ^ 

Wrecked is the ship of pearl ! 

And every chambered cell, 
Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell, 
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell. 

Before thee lies revealed, — 
Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed ! 



598 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Year after year beheld the silent toil • 

That spread his lustrous coil ; 

Still, as the spiral grew, 
He left the past year's dwelling for the new, 
Stole with soft step its shining archway through, 

Built up its idle door,^ 
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more. 

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, 

Child of the wandering sea, 

Cast from her lap forlorn ! 
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born 
Than ever Triton ^ blew from wreathed horn ! 

While on mine ear it rings, 
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings 

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul. 

As the swift seasons roll ! 

Leave thy low-vaulted past ! 
Let each new temple, nobler than the last, 

Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, 

Till thou at length art free. 
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea ! 



CONTENTMENT 



Little I ask ; my wants are few ; 

I only wish a hut of stone, 
(A very plain brown stone will do,) 

That I may call my own ; — 
And close at hand is such a one. 
In yonder street that fronts the sun. 

Plain food is quite enough for me ; 

Three courses are as good as ten ; - 
If Nature can subsist on three, 

Thank Heaven for three. Amen ! 
I always thought cold victual nice ; — 
My choice would be vanilla-ice. 



SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES 599 

I care not much for gold or land ; — 

Give me a mortgage here and there, — 
Some good bank-stock, some note of hand, 

Or trifling railroad share ; — 
I only ask that Fortune send 
A little more than I shall spend. 

Honors are silly toys, I know. 

And titles are but empty names ; — 
I would, perhaps, be Plenipo, ^ — , 

But only near St. James ^ : — 
I'm very sure I should not care 
To fill our Gubernator's chair. 

Jewels are bawbles ; 'tis a sin 

To care for such unfruitful things ; — 
One good-sized diamond in a pin, — 

Some, not so large, in rings, — 
A ruby, and a pearl, or so. 
Will do for me ; — I laugh at show. 

My dame should dress in cheap attire ; 

(Good, heavy silks are never dear) ; — 
I own perhaps I might desire 

Some shawls of true Cashmere, — 
Some marrowy crapes of China silk. 
Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk. 

I would not have the horse I drive 

So fast that folks must stop and stare : 
An easy gait — two, forty-five — 

Suits me ; I do not care ; — 
Perhaps, for just a single spurt, 
Some seconds less would do no hurt.^ 

Of pictures, I should like to own 

Titians ■* and Raphaels ^ three or four, — 
I love so much their style and tone, — 



6oo AMERICAN LITERATURE 

One Turner,^ and no more, 
(A landscape, — foreground golden dirt, — 
The sunshine painted with a squirt). 

Of books but few, — some fifty score 
For daily use, and bound for wear ; 

The rest upon an upper floor ; — 
Some little luxury there 

Of red morocco's golded gleam. 

And vellum rich as country cream. 

Busts, cameos, gems, — such things as these, 
Which others often show for pride, 

/ value for their power to please. 
And selfish churls deride ; — 

One Stradivarius,'' I confess, 

Two Meerschaums, I would fain possess. 

Wealth's wasteful tricks I will not learn. 
Nor ape the glittering upstart fool ; — 

Shall not carved tables serve my turn, 
But all must be of buhl? ® 

Give grasping pomp its double share, — 

I ask but one recumbent chair. 

Thus humble let me live and die. 

Nor long for Midas' ^ golden touch ; 

If Heaven more generous gifts deny, 
I shall not miss them much, — 

Too grateful for the blessing lent 

Of simple tastes and mind content. 



THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECE 

Or, The Wonderful "One-Hoss Shay" 

a logical story 

Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay. 
That was built in such a logical way 
It ran a hundred years to a day, 



SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES 6oi 

And then, of a sudden, it — ah, but stay, 
I'll tell you what happened without delay, 
Scaring the parson into fits, 
Frightening people out of their wits, — 
Have you ever heard of that, I say? 

Seventeen hundred and fifty-five, 
Georgius Secmidus was then alive, — 
Snuffy old drone from the German hive ; 
That was the year when Lisbon-town 
Saw the earth open and gulp her down. 
And Braddock's army was done so brown, 
Left without a scalp to its crown. 
It was on the terrible Earthquake-day 
That the Deacon finished the one-hoss shay. 

Now in building of chaises, I tell you what. 

There is always somewhere a weakest spot, — 

In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill. 

In panel, or crossbar, or floor, or sill. 

In screw, bolt, thoroughbrace, — lurking still. 

Find it somewhere you must and will, — 

Above or below, within or without, — 

And that's the reason, beyond a doubt. 

That a chaise breaks down, but doesn't wear out. 

But the Deacon swore, (as Deacons do, 
With an "I dew vum," or an "I tell yeou'') 
He would build one shay to beat the taown 
'n' the keounty 'n' all the kentry raoun' ; 
It should be so built that it couldn't break daown ; 
"Fur," said the Deacon, "t's mighty plain 
That the weakes' place mus' stan' the strain ; 
'n' the way t' fix it, uz I maintain, 

Is only jest 
T' make that place uz strong uz the rest." 

So the Deacon inquired of the village folk 
Where he could find the strongest oak, 



6o2 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

That couldn't be split nor bent nor broke, — 

That was for spokes and floors and sills ; 

He sent for lancewood to make the thills ; 

The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees, 

The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, 

But lasts hke iron for things Hke these ; 

The hubs of logs from the "Settler's ellum," — 

Last of its timber, — they couldn't sell 'em, 

Never an axe had seen their chips, 

And the wedges flew from between their lips. 

Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips ; 

Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, 

Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, 

Steel of the finest, bright and blue ; 

Thoroughbrace bison-skin, thick and wide ; 

Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide 

Found in the pit when the tanner died. 

That was the way he ''put her through." — 

"There!" said the Deacon, "naow she'll dew!" 

Do ! I teU you, I rather guess 

She was a wonder, and nothing less ! 

Colts grew horses, beards turned gray. 

Deacon and deaconess dropped away. 

Children and grandchildren — where were they? 

But there stood the stout old one-hoss shay 

As fresh as on Lisbon-earthquake-day ! 

EIGHTEEN HUNDRED ; — it came and found 
The Deacon's masterpiece strong and sound. 
Eighteen hundred increased by ten ; — 
"Hahnsum kerridge" they called it then. 
Eighteen hundred and twenty came ; — 
Running as usual ; much the same. 
Thirty and forty at last arrive, 
And then came fifty, and FIFTY-FIVE. 

Little of all we value here 

Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year 



SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES 603 

Without both feehng and looking queer. 

In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth, 

So far as I know, but a tree and truth. 

(This is a moral that runs at large ; 

Take it. — You're welcome. — No extra charge.) 

FIRST OF NOVEMBER, — the Earthquake-day — 

There are traces of age in the one-hoss shay, 

A general flavor of mild decay, 

But nothing local, as one may say. 

There couldn't be, — for the Deacon's art 

Had made it so like in every part 

That there wasn't a chance for one to start. 

For the wheels were just as strong as the thills, 

And the floor was just as strong as the sills. 

And the panels just as strong as the floor. 

And the whipple-tree neither less nor more. 

And the back-crossbar as strong as the fore, 

And spring and axle and hub encore. 

And yet, as a whole, it is past a doubt, 

In another hour it will be worn out! 

First of November, 'Fifty-five ! 

This morning the parson takes a drive. 

Now, small boys, get out of the way ! 

Here comes the wonderful one-hoss shay, 

Drawn by a rat-tailed, ewe-necked bay. 

"Huddup !" said the parson. — Off went they. 

The parson was working his Sunday's text, — 

Had got to fifthly, and stopped perplexed 

At what the — Moses — was coming next. 

All at once the horse stood still. 

Close by the meet'n'-house on the hill. 

— First a shiver, and then a thrill, 

Then something decidedly like a spill, — 

And the parson was sitting upon a rock. 

At half past nine by the meet'n'-house clock, — 

Just at the hour of the Earthquake shock ! 



6o4 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

— What do you think the parson found, 
When he got up and stared around ? 
The poor old chaise in a heap or mound, 
As if it had been to the mill and ground ! 
You see, of course, if you're not a dunce, 
How it went to pieces all at once, — 
All at once, and nothing first, — 
Just as bubbles do when they burst. 

End of the wonderful one-hoss shay. 
Logic is logic. That's all I say. 



NOTES TO HOLMES 605 



NOTES TO HOLMES 
For a general introduction to the selections, see the sketch of Holmes. 

Old Ironsides 

The interesting circumstances connected with the publication of this poem 
are mentioned in the sketch of Holmes. 

1. This title was popularly conferred on the frigate Constitution in recog- 
nition of her numerous victories. She was launched at Boston in 1797. She 
took a prominent part in the bombardment of Tripoli in 1804, and especially 
distinguished herself in the War of 181 2. "In the course of two years and nine 
months," says James Fenimore Cooper, "this ship had been in three actions, 
had been twice critically chased, and had captured five vessels of war. In 
all her service, her good fortune was remarkable. She never was dismasted, 
never got ashore, and scarcely ever suffered any of the usual accidents of the 
sea. Though so often in battle, no very serious slaughter ever took place on 
board her." 

2. Harpy = in mythology a fabulous winged monster, ravenous and filthy, 
having the farce of a woman and the body of a vulture, with long claws, and 
with a face pale with hunger. Hence, one that is rapacious or ravenous; a 
plunderer. 

3. God of storms = Neptune, the god of the sea. The symbol of his power 
was a trident, with which he raised and stilled storms. 

The Last Leaf 

This poem illustrates the mingled humor and pathos of Holmes. "Is there 
in all literature," queries his biographer, Morse, "a lyric in which drollery, 
passing nigh unto ridicule, yet stopping short of it, and sentiment becoming 
pathos, yet not too profound, are so exquisitely intermingled as in 'The Last 
Leaf? To spill into the mixture the tiniest fraction of a drop too much of 
either ingredient was to ruin all. How skilfully, how daintily, how unerringly 
Dr. Holmes compounded it, all readers of English know well. It was a light 
and trifling bit, if you will ; but how often has it made the smile and the tear 
dispute for mastery, in a rivalry which is never quite decided !" 



6o6 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

The Height of the RroicuLous 

The poet's comic vein reaches its climax in this bit of extravaganza. There 
are several personal touches in it. His feelings toward the public were so kindly 
that he always expected his productions to meet with a favorable reception. He 
had a good opinion of these lines : — 

"And thought, as usual, men would say 
They were exceeding good." 

In the third stanza there is a reference to his slight build. 

The Chambered Nautilus 

This selection, as well as the remaining ones, is taken from "The Autocrat 
of the Breakfast Table." It is there introduced as follows: "Did I not say 
to you a little while ago that the universe swam in an ocean of similitudes and 
analogies? I will not quote Cowley, or Burns, or Wordsworth, just now, to 
show you what thoughts were suggested to them by the simplest natural ob- 
jects, such as a flower or a leaf ; but I will read you a few lines, if you do not 
object, suggested by looking at a section of one of those chambered shells to 
which is given the name of Pearly Nautilus. We need not trouble ourselves 
about the distinction between this and the Paper Nautilus, the Argonauta of 
the ancients. The name applied to both shows that each has long been com- 
pared to a ship, as you may see more fully in Webster's Dictionary, or the 
'Encyclopaedia,' to which he refers. If you will look into Roget's Bridge- 
water Treatise, you will find a figure of one of these shells and a section of it. 
The last will show you the series of enlarging compartments successively dwelt 
in by the animal that inhabits the shell, which is built in a widening spiral. 
Can you find no lesson in this?" 

"The Chambered Nautilus" was a favorite poem with Holmes. "In 
writing the poem," he says, "I was filled with a better feeling — the highest 
state of mental exaltation and the most crystalline clairvoyance, as it seemed 
to me — I mean that lucid vision of one's thought, and of all forms of expres- 
sion which will be at once precise and musical, which is the poet's special gift, 
however large or small in amount or value." 

This poem is the high-water mark of the author's poetic achievement. In 
this single flight he has not been often surpassed in America. 

1. Siren = one of three damsels, according to mythology, said to dwell 
near the island of Capreae, in the Mediterranean, and to sing with such sweet- 
ness that they who sailed by forgot their country, and died in an ecstasy of 
delight. 

2. Sea-maid = mermaid, a sea nymph with a fish's tail. Mermaid is 
from Fr. mer, sea, and Eng. maid. 



NOTES TO HOLMES 607 

3. "The story of its spreading a sail is, as fabulous as the similar story re- 
garding the argonaut." — Chambers. 

4. The shell is camerated, or divided into chambers, by transverse curved 
partitions of shelly matter. 

5. Triton = a fabled sea demigod, the trumpeter of Neptune. 

Contentment 

This poem is introduced in the "Autocrat" as follows: "Should you like 
to hear what moderate wishes life brings one to at last? I used to be very 
ambitious, — wasteful, extravagant, and luxurious in all my fancies. Read 
too much in the 'Arabian Nights.' Must have the lamp, — couldn't do with- 
,out the ring. Exercise every morning on the brazen horse. Plump down into 
castles as full of little milk-white princesses as a nest is of young sparrows. 
All love me dearly at once. Charming idea of life, but too high-colored for 
the reality. I have outgrown all this; my tastes have become exceedingly 
primitive, — almost, perhaps, ascetic. We carry happiness into our condition, 
but must not hope to find it there. I think you will be willing to hear some 
lines which embody the subdued and limited desires of my maturity." 

1. Plcnipo = plenipotentiary; an ambassador or envoy to a foreign Court, 
furnished with full power to negotiate a treaty or transact other business. 

2. St. James = the English Court, so called from the Palace of St. James, 
used for Court purposes. 

3. Sec the sketch of Holmes for a remark on this stanza. 

4. Titian (1477-1576) was the head of the Venetian school, and one of the 
greatest painters that ever lived. The number of his works exceeds six hundred. 

5. Raphael (1483-1520), called by his countrymen "the divine," is ranked 
by almost universal consent as the greatest of painters. 

6. Turner (i 775-1851) was the greatest of British landscape painters. By 
his industry and thrift he amassed a fortune of a million dollars. 

7. Stradivariiis (1644-1737) was a distinguished maker of violins. In 
this connection the following extract from Holmes's biography will be read 
with interest: "At one time the Doctor was seized with an ardent desire to 
learn to play upon the violin. I think there was not the slightest reason to 
suppose that he ever could learn, and certainly he never did ; but he used to shut 
himself up in his little 'study,' beside the front door in the Charles-street house, 
and fiddle away with surprising industry, and a satisfaction out of all propor- 
tion to his achievement. After two or three winters he reached a point at which 
he could make several simple tunes quite recognizable, and then finally desisted 
from what would have been a waste of time had it not been a recreation." 

8. Buhl = a light and complicated figure of brass, unburnished gold, etc., 
set as an ornament into surfaces of ebony or other dark wood. 



6o8 AMERICAN LITERATURE 

g. Midas = a Phrygian king, to whom was granted the wish that what- 
ever he touched might turn into gold. 

The Deacon's Masterpiece 

This is the best-known and the most popular of Holmes's humorous pieces. 
At the Breakfast Table one morning "the young fellow whom they call John" 
had proposed some conundrums before the Autocrat made his appearance. 
The Autocrat disapproved of their trifling character. Then, as introductory 
to the poem : "I am willing, — I said, to exercise your ingenuity in a rational 
and contemplative manner. No, I do not proscribe certain forms of philo- 
sophical speculation which involve an approach to the absurd or the ludicrous, 
such as you may find, for example, in the folio of the Reverend Father Thomas 
Sanchez, in his famous Disputations, *De Sancto Matrimonio.' I will there- 
fore turn this levity of yours to profit by reading you a rhymed problem, wrought 
out by my friend the Professor." 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 



HISTORY 



Justin Winsor, "Narrative and Critical History of America." 

J, A. Doyle, "English Colonies in America." 

John Fiske, "Old Virginia and Her Neighbors." 

John Esten Cooke, "Virginia" (Am. Commonwealth Series). 

John Fiske, "The Beginnings of New England." 

George Bancroft, "History of the United States." 

James Schouler, "History of the United States." 

James Ford Rhodes, "History of the United States." 

HISTORIES OF AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Moses Coit Tyler, " A History of American Literature." 
C. F. Richardson, "American Literature." 
Barrett Wendell, "A Literary History of America." 
Edmund Clarence Stedman, "Poets of America." 
H. C. Vedder, "American Writers of To-day." 

BIOGRAPHICAL CYCLOPEDIAS 

S. A. Allibone, "A Critical Dictionary of British and American Authors." 
Appleton, "Cyclopaedia of American Biography." 
White, "National Cyclopaedia of American Biography." 
A. N. Marquis, "Who's Who in America." 
Poole, "Index to Periodical Literature." 

ILLUSTRATIVE SELECTIONS 

Duyckinck, "Cyclopaedia of American Literature." 
Stedman and Hutchinson, "A Library of American Literature." 
E. C. Stedman, "American Anthology." 
G. R. Carpenter, "American Prose." 
Library of Southern Literature. 

W. J. Bryan, "The Worid's Famous Orators." * 

609 



6lO BIBLIOGRAPHY 



BIOGRAPHY 



Henry Adams, "John Randolph" (Am. Statesmen Series). 

A. V. G. Allen, "Jonathan Edwards" (Am. Religious Leaders Series). 

W. M. Baskerville, "Sidney Lanier" (So. Writers Series). 

H. A. Beers, "N. P. Willis" (Am. Men of Letters Series). 

John Bigelow, " William Cullen Bryant "(Am. Men of Letters Series). 

Richard M. Burke, "Life of Walt Whitman." 

Helen Campbell, "Anne Bradstreet and Her Time." 

Edward Gary, "George William Curtis" (Am. Men of Letters Series). 

William Clarke, "Walt Whitman." 

M. D. Conway, "Nathaniel Hawthorne" (Great Writers Series). 

G. W. Cooke, "Life, Writings, and Philosophy of Emerson." 

Geo. T. Curtis, "Life of Daniel Webster." 

Benjamin Franklin, "Autobiography." 

Richard Garnett, "Ralph Waldo Emerson" (Great Writers Series). 

Parke Godwin, "Life and Works of William Cullen Bryant." 

Edward Everett Hale, "Lowell and His Friends." 

Julian Hawthorne, "Nathaniel Hawthorne and His Wife." 

T. W. HiGGiNsoN, "Margaret Fuller Ossoli" (Am. Men of Letters Series). 

Oliver Wendell Holmes, "Memoir of J. L. Motley." 

Oliver Wendell Holmes, " Ralph Waldo Emerson " (Am. Men of Letters 

Series). 
H. VON HoLST, "John C. Calhoun" (Am. Statesmen Series). 
J. H. Ingram, "Memoir of Poe." 

Henry James, Jr., "Nathaniel Hawthorne" (Eng. Men of Letters Series). 
W. J. Linton, "John Greenleaf Whittier" (Great Writers Series). 
Henry Cabot Lodge, "Alexander Hamilton" (Am. Statesmen Series). 
Henry Cabot Lodge, "Daniel Webster" (Am. Statesmen Series). 
T. R. LouNSBURY, "James Fenimore Cooper" (Am. Men of Letters Series). 
J. T. Morse, "Benjamin FrankHn" (Am. Men of Letters Series). 
J. T. Morse, "Thomas Jefferson" (Am. Statesmen Series). 
J. T. Morse, "Life and Letters of Oliver Wendell Holmes." 
W. S. Paulding, "Literary Life of J. K. Paulding." 
S. T. PiCKARD, "Life and Letters of Whittier." 
Eric S. Robertson, "Henry W. Longfellow" (Great Writers Series). 
H. S. Salt, "Henry D. Thoreau" (Great Writers Series). 
F. B. Sanborn, "Henry D. Thoreau" (Am. Men of Letters Series). 
James Schouler, "Thomas Jefferson" (Makers of America Series). 
Albert H. Smyth, "Bayard Taylor" (Am. Men of Letters Series). 
George Ticknor, "Life of Prescott." 
W. P. Trent, "William Gilmore Simms" (Am. Men. of Letters Series). 



• BIBLIOGRAPHY 6ll 

J. H. TwiTCHELL, ''John Winthrop" (Makers of America Series). 
F. H. Underwood, "John Greenleaf Whittier." 
F. H. Underwood, "James Russell Lowell." 

F. H. Underwood, "Henry W. Longfellow." 
Chas. Dudley Warner, "Life of John Smith." 

Chas Dudley Warner, "Washington Irving" (Am. Men of Letters Series). 
Barrett Wendell, "Cotton Mather" (Makers of America Series). 
J, G. Wilson, "Life and Letters of Fitz-Greene Halleck." 

G. E. Woodberry, "Edgar Allan Poe" (Am. Men of Letters Series). 

MISCELLANEOUS 

Geo. W. Curtis, "Literary and Social Essays." 

J. T. Fields, "Yesterdays with Authors." 

O. B. Frothingham, "Transcendentalism in New England." 

F. V. N. Painter, " Poets of the South." 

F. V. N. Painter, " Poets of Virginia." 

E. P. Whipple, " Recollections of Eminent Men." 
Matthew Arnold, "Discourses in America." 
James Russell Lowell, " Emerson the Lecturer." 

G. P. Lathrop, "A Study of Hawthorne." 
Horace E. Scudder, "Men and Letters." 



INDEX 



Abbott, Jacob, 113. 

Abbott, John S. C, 113. 

Abbott, Lyman, 307. 

Abolition, agitation for, 127. 

Adams, Henry, 307. 

Adams, John, 73. 

Ade, George, 307. 

"A Forest Hymn," 475. 

Alcott, Amos Bronson, 113. 

Alcott, Louisa May, 307. 

Aldrich, Thomas Bailey, 307 ; sketch and 

critique of, 345-347- 
Allen, James Lane, 307. 
Allston, Washington, 113; influence on 

Irving, 150. 
American Literature, 3 ; brief period and 

future development of, 4 ; favorable 

conditions for, 5 ; periods of, 6. 
"Arsenal at Springfield, The," 537. 
"Art," Emerson's essay on, 501. 
Articles of Confederation, 80. 
Atherton, Gertrude F., 307. 
Austin, Jane Goodwin, 307. 

Bacheller, Irving, 308. 

Bancroft, George, 114, 131. 

Bangs, John Kendrick, 308. 

"Barclay of Ury," 580. 

Barlow, Joel, 73; his "Columbiad," 87. 

Barr, Amelia Edith, 308. 

Bates, Arlo, 308. 

"Bay Psalm Book," 19. 

Beach, Rex. 308. 

Beecher, Henry Ward, 308. 

Berkeley, Sir William, 14. 

Bierce, Ambrose, 308. 

Billings, Josh. See Henry W. Shaw. 

Blair, James, 40. 

Boker, George Henry, 308. 

Boston News-Letter, 43. 

Boyesen, Hjalmar Hjorth, 308. 



Brackenridge, Hugh Henry, 74. 

Bradford, William, 9. 

Bradstreet, Anne, 10, 22. 

Brainerd, David, 39. 

"Broken Heart, The," 454, 

Brook Farm, 217, 232. 

Brown, Alice, 309. 

Brown, Charles Brockden, 74, 84. 

Browne, Charles Farrar, 309. 

Bryant, William Cullen, sketch of, 175- 
191; genius and character, 175; moral 
element in Hterature, 175; ancestry, 
176; precocity, 177; a youthful satire, 
177 ; the study of law, 178 ; legal career, 
178; love of nature, 179; "Thanatop- 
sis," 179; "To a Waterfowl," 180; new 
source of inspiration, 181 ; wedded 
happiness, 181 ; dissatisfaction with law, 
182 ; "The Death of the Flowers," 182 ; 
The Evening, Post, 1 83 ; prose writing, 
183; harmless idiosyncrasies, 184; wide 
travels, 184; public addresses, 185; 
poetic vocation, 185; first volume, 186; 
English edition, 187; distinctive quali- 
ties, 187; translates the "Iliad" and 
"Odyssey," 188; country homes, 190; 
religious spirit, 190; sudden death, 190; 
illustrative selections, 472-486. 

"Building of the Ship, The," 538. 

Bunner, Henry Cuyler, 309. 

Burdette, Robert J., 309. 

Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 309. 

Burnham, Clara Louise, 309. 

Burroughs, John, 309. 

Byles, Mather, 39. 

Byrd, William, 40. 

Cable, George W., 309; sketch of, 366- 

367. 
Carleton, Will, 309. 
Carman, Bliss, 309. 



613 



6i4 



INDEX 



Gary, Alice and Phoebe, 309. 

Catherwood, Mary H., 310. J 

Cawein, Madison Julius, 310. 

"Chambered Nautilus, The," 597. 

Chambers, Robert W., 310. 

Channing, William Ellery, 114^ 

Charleston, a Uterary center, 138. . 

Cheney, John Vance, 310. ^| 

Chester, George Randolph, 31^. 

Child, Lydia Maria, 114. 

Churchill, Winston, 310. 

Civil War, The, a dividing line, 327 ; and 
literature, 328. 

Clarke, James Freemati, 310. ^ 

Clemens, Samuel L., 310; rugged honesty 
of, 342 ; influence of, 343. 

College of William and Mary, 15 ; locatAn 
and purpose of, 15. ^ 

Colonization, 1 1 ; first English settlements, 
II. 

"Columbiad, The," our first epic, 87. 

Congress, The Continental, 78. 

Constitution, the framing of, 80. 

"Contentment," 598. 

Cooke, John Esten, 114, 137. 

Cooke, Philip Pendleton, 114. 

Cooke, Rose Terry, 310. 

Cooper, James Fenimore, sketch of, 162- 
174; a national writer, 162 ; childhood, 
163; school and college, 163; naval 
career, 163; domestic life, 164; first 
novel, 16s; "The Spy," 165; "The 
Pioneers," 166; a tale of the sea, 166; 
"The Last of the Mohicans," 167; a 
New York Club, 168; a sojourn in Eu- 
rope, 168; Uterary activity, 168; pa- 
triotic spirit, 169; loss of popularity, 
169; suits for libel, 170; history of the 
navy, 170; the Leather-stocking series, 
171; last years, 172; character, 172; 
literary shortcomings, 173; graphic de- 
scription, 173;. illustrative selection, 
464-471. , 

Cotton, John, 9. 

Country, Our, a world power, 330. 

Craddock, Charles Egbert. See Mary N. 
Murfree. 

Craigie, Pearl Mary -Teresa, 311. 

Cranch, Christopher P., 311. 

Crane, Stephen, 311. 

Crawford, Francis Marion, 311. 

Curtis, George William, 114. 



Dana, Richard Henry, 114. 

Dana, Richard Henry, Jr., 311. 

Davies, Samuel, 40. 

Davis, Richard Harding, 311. 

"Deacon's Masterpiece, The," 600. 

"Death of the Flowers," 479. 

"Declaration of Independence," 423. 

Deland, Margaret Wade, 311. 

Dial, The, 217. 

Dixon, Thomas, 311. 

Dodge, Mary A. (Gail Hamilton), 312. 

Drake, Joseph Rodman, 114, 134. 

Drama, first American, 50. 

Dunbar, Paul Lawrence, 312. 

Dunne, Finley Peter (Mr. Dooley), 312. 

Dwight, Timothy, 73. 

Education, in First Colonial Period, 17; 
in Second, 42; in First National, 121; 
since Civil War, 329. 

Edwards, Jonathan, sketch of, 62-70; a 
great, austere fife, 62 ; parentage and 
early training, 63 ; an observer of nature, 
63 ; at Yale, 63 ; reading and study, 64 ; 
religious experience, 64; preacher and 
tutor, 64 ; seventy resolutions, 65 ; 
domestic life, 65 ; pulpit ix)wer, 66 ; 
"Great Awakening," 66; controversy 
and resignation, 67 ; missionary work, 
67; "Freedom of the Will." 67; presi- 
dent of Princeton, 68; "History of Re- 
demption," 69; last days, 69; estimate 
of, 69; illustrative selection, 414-422. 

Eggleston, Edward, 312; sketch of, 381- 

384. 

Eliot, John, 10. 

Emerson, Ralph Waldo, sketch of, 208- 
226; a record of thought, 208; relative 
originaUty, 20S ; an idealistic philoso- 
pher, 209; his common sense, 210; 
ancestry and education, 210; teacher 
and preacher, 210; increasing doubt, 
211 ; a trip abroad, 212 ; as a lecturer, 
212; at Concord, 214; "Nature," 215; 
Transcendental Club, 215; Transcen- 
dentalism, 216; The Dial, 217; Brook 
Farm experiment, 217; first volume of 
Essays, 218; a simple studious life, 219; 
bereavement and consolation, 220; 
second volume of Essays, 220; second 
visit to England, 221; poetry, 222; a 
student of nature, 223; estimate of his 



INDEX 



6i 



poetry, 224; literary method, 225; twi- 
light years, 225; illustrative selection, 

«oi-5i,3- 
England, mistaken policy of, 45. 
"Evening Wind, The," 480. 
Everett, Alexander H., 114. 
Everett, Edward, 114. 
Expansion, National, 330- 

"Fancy's Show Box," 521. 

"Federalist, The," 106. 

Federalist and Anti-Federalist, 81. 

Federation, attempts at, 48. 

Field, Eugene, 312. 

Fields, James T., 115. 

First Colonial Period, 11. 

First National Period, 120; growth in 
population, 120; the Mississippi Valley, 
121 ; Manufacture and Commerce, 121 ; 
educational progress, 121; periodical 
literature, 122; favorable conditions, 
122; the West and the South, 123; 
science and invention, 124; state rights, 
126; slavery, 127; agitation for aboli- 
tion, 127; Unitarian controversy, 128; 
transcendental movement, 129. 

Fiske, John, 312. 

"Footsteps of Angels," 531. 

Ford, Paul Leicester, 312. 

Foster, Stephen Collins, 115. 

Fox, John, Jr., 312. 

France, purpose of, 45. 
Franklin, Benjamin, sketch of, 51-61; 
popularity of, 51; youth and education, 
51; fondness for reading. 52; first lit- 
erary effort, 52; in Philadelphia, 53; in 
England, 53 ; the Junto, 55 ; self-control 
and humility, 55 ; shrewdness and indus- 
tr>-, 56; newspaper publisher, 56; "Poor 
Richard's Almanac," 56; interest in 
public affairs, 58; honors and educa- 
tional activity, 58; plan for colonial 
union, 59 ; scientific experiments, 59 ; 
honors abroad, 60; governor of Penn- 
sylvania, 61 ; closing years, 61 ; illus- 
trative selection, 403-413. 
Freeman, Mary E. Wilkins, 313. 
French, Alice (Octave Thanet), 313. 
Freneau, Philip, 74. 

Gale, Zona, 313. 
Garland, Hamlin, 313. 



Genius and character, 175. 
Gilder, Richard Watson, 313. 
Glasgow, Ellen A., 313, 
Godfrey, Thomas, 40. 
Goodrich, Samuel G., 115. 
Goodwin, Maud Wilder, 313. 
Grant, Robert, 313. 
"Gray Champion, The," 514. 
Green, Anna Katherine, 313. 
Guiney, Louise Imogen, 313. 

Hale, Edward Everett, 314 ; sketch of, 349- 

351- 

Hale, Sarah Josepha, 115. 

Halleck, Fitz-Greene, 115, 135. 

Hamilton, .\lexander, sketch of, loo-iio; 
youthful ambition, 100; education, loi ; 
a colonial patriot, 102 ; a pamphleteer, 
102 ; resists a mob, 103 ; a military offi- 
cer, 103 ; on Washington's staff, 103 ; 
an unpopular leader, 104 ; as a states- 
man, 105 ; marriage and independence, 
105; labors in congress, 105; "The 
Federalist," 106; a forensic victory, 
107 ; secretary of the treasury. 107 ; 
a cabinet feud, 108; rank as a pub- 
Heist, 108; duel and death, 109; es- 
timate of, 109 ; illustrative selection, 
432-438. 

Harland. Henry (Sidney Luska), 314. 

Harris, Joel Chandler, 314. 

Harris. William T., 314. 

Harte, Francis Bret, 314; sketch of, 376- 
378. 

Harvard College, 18. 

Hawthorne, Julian, 314. 

Hawthorne. Nathaniel, sketch of, 227- 
241 ; men of genius, 227 ; ancestry, 228; 
school days, 229; inclination to litera- 
ture, 229; reading and observation, 
230; study and seclusion, 230; "Twice- 
told Tales," 231 ; Boston custom-house, 
232; at Brook Farm, 232; "TheBUthe- 
dale Romance," 233 ; happy marriage, 
234; "Mosses from an Old Manse," 
234; portraits from the custom-house, 
236; "The Scarlet Letter," 237; "House 
of the Seven Gables." 237 ; various 
literary labors. 238; irksome consular 
duties, 238; "Our Old Home." 239; 
travel and observation, 239 ; deep sense 
of sin, 239 ; failing strength and death, 



6i6 



INDEX 



240; character and genius, 240; illus- 
trative selections, 514-529. 

Hay, John, 314. 

Hayne, Paul Hamilton, 115, 140. 

Hearn, Lafcadio, 315. 

"Height of the Ridiculous, The," 596. 

Henry, O. See Sydney Porter. 

Heredity, influence of, 100. 

Herrick, Robert, 315. 

Higginson, Thomas Wentworth, 315. 

Hildreth, Richard, 315. 

Hobbes, John Oliver. See Pearl Mary- 
Teresa Craigie. 

Holland, James Gilbert, 115. 

Holley, Marietta, 315. 

Holmes, Oliver Wendell, sketch of, 293- 
305 ; popularity, 293 ; independent 
aloofness, 293 ; versatiUty, 294 ; a be- 
Uever in heredity, 294; "Autobiograph- 
ical Notes," 295 ; class of '29, 295 ; 
student of medicine, 296; "Old Iron- 
sides," 296; practising physician, 297; 
first volume of verse, 297 ; a worthy 
helpmate, 298; professor at Harvard, 
298; a popular lecturer, 298; "Autocrat 
of the Breakfast Table," 299; poems of 
the "Autocrat," 299; the Saturday 
Club, 300 ; laureate of Boston, 301 ; 
theological interest, 301 ; "The Pro- 
fessor at the Breakfast Table," 301 ; 
"The Poet at the Breakfast Table," 
302; two "medicated novels," 302 ; as 
writer of biographies, 303 ; visit to Eng- 
land, 303; "Over the Teacups," 304; 
last years, 304; his broad sympathies, 
305 ; illustrative selections, 594-608. 

Hopkinson, Francis, 74. 

Hopkinson, Joseph, 74. 

Howard, Blanche WilUs, 315. 

Howe, JuUa Ward, 315. 

Howells, William Dean, 315; sketch of, 

351-354- 
Humor, American, 341. 
Hunt, Helen. See Helen Fiske Jackson. 
Hutchinson, Thomas, 39. 

International relations of to-day, 330. 

Invention and Science, 124. 

Irving, W^ashington, sketch of, 1 47-1 61 ; 
our first man of letters, 147 ; childhood, 
147 ; education and reading, 148 ; voy- 
age to Europe, 148; genial spirit, 149; 



influence of AUston, 150 ; law and Htera- 
ture, 150; a taste of pohtics, 150; love 
and constancy, 151; "Knickerbocker's 
History," 151 ; business and legislation, 
151; not a partisan, 152 ; merchant and 
editor, 152; long sojourn in Europe, 
153; finds his vocation, 153; "The 
Sketch-Book," 153; a literary lion, 154; 
"Bracebridge Hall," 154; "Tales of a 
Traveller," 155; "Life of Columbus," 
15s; "Conquest of Granada," 156; 
secretary of legation, 156; return to 
America, 157; Sunnyside, 157 ; literary 
labors, 158; minister to Spain, 159; 
"Life of Goldsmith," 159; closing scenes, 
160; illustrative selections, 439-463. 

Jackson, Helen Fiske, 315. 

James, Henry, 316; notable works, 336; 
style, 337. 

Jefferson, Thomas, sketch of, 89-99; his 
rank, 89 ; ancestry, 90 ; at college, 90 ; 
legal career, 91 ; marriage, 91 ; com- 
mittee of correspondence, 92; "Rights 
of British America," 93 ; in Congress, 93 ; 
Declaration of Independence, 94; law 
of religious freedom, 95 ; educational 
system, 95 ; varied public services, 95 ; 
secretar>' of state, 96; an advocate of 
State rights, 96; elected president, 96; 
the University of Virginia, 97 ; death, 
98; estimate of, 98; illustrative selec- 
tion, 423-431. 

Jewett, Sarah Ome, 316. 

Johnson, Edward, 10. 

Johnston, Mary, 316. 

Johnston, Richard Malcolm, 316. 

Keller, Helen, 316. 

Kennedy, John Pendleton, 116. 

Key, Francis Scott, 116. 

King, Charles, 316. 

King, Grace Elizabeth, 316. 

Kirk, Ellen Olney (Henry Hayes), 316. 

"Knickerbocker School," 133. 

Lanier, Sidney, 316; sketch of, 369-373. 

Larcom, Lucy, 316. 

Lathrop, George Parsons, 317. 

Lawson, John, 40. 

Lazarus,- Emma, 317. 

Leland, Charles Godfrey, 317. 



INDEX 



617 



Literary centers, 340. 

Literature, importance of, i ; defined, i ; 
national, i ; restricted sense, 2 ; artistic, 
2 ; potent influences in, 2 ; American, 3 ; 
of other nations, 4 ; future development 
of, 4 ; broadened literary culture, 5 ; 
periods of American, 6; narrow range 
of, 21. 

Livingston, William, 3q. 

Locke, David Ross (Petroleum V. Nasby), 

317- 

Lodge, Henry Cabot, 317. 

London, Jack, 317. 

Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, sketch of, 
242-260; great popularity, 242 ; beauty 
of his life, 242 ; parentage, 243 ; early 
environment, 243 ; college career, 244 ; 
literary bent, 244 ; professor of modern 
languages, 245; "Outre Mer," 245; 
"Footsteps of Angels," 245; "Hy- 
perion," 246; home in Cambridge, 246; 
methods as teacher, 247 ; a literary 
group, 248 ; "Voices of the Night," 248 ; 
"Ballads and Other Poems," 249; 
fundamental characteristics, 250; three 
notable things, 250; noteworthy vol- 
umes, 251; "Evangeline," 252; hostile 
criticism, 253; prose and poetry, 254; 
"Resignation," 254; "Hiawatha," 255; 
parody and ridicule, 255; "Courtship 
of Miles Standish," 256; some notable 
pieces, 256; bereavement and toil, 257; 
"Tales of a Wayside Inn," 257; "The 
Golden Legend," 258; "New England 
Tragedies," 259; "The Divine Tragedy," 
259; several admirable poems, 259; 
death and burial, 259 ; illustrative 
selections, 53«>-S54- 

Lossing, Benson J., 116. 

Lowell, James Russell, sketch of, 261-275 ; 
more than a writer, 261 ; New England 
spirit, 262 ; distinguished ancestry, 262 ; 
career at Harvard, 263; "A Year's 
Life," 263; editor of The Pioneer, 263; 
second volume of poetry, 264 ; funda- 
mental beliefs, 264; "The Biglow 
Papers," 265; "What Mr. Robinson 
Thinks," 266; "A Fable for Critics," 267; 
course of lectures, 268 ; successor to 
Longfellow, 268; editorial labors, 269; 
"Fireside Travels," 269; "Under the 
Willows," 270; commemoration odes, 



271; "The Cathedral," 272; wilful 
caprice, 273 ; prose writings, 273 ; as 
critic, 274; diplomatic career, 275; 
"Democracy and Other Addresses," 
275 ; death, 275 ; illustrative selections, 

SSS~S1S- 
Lummis, Charles F., 317. 
Luska, Sidney. See Henry Harland. 

Mabie, Hamilton Wright, 317. 

Macaulay, Fannie Caldwell, 317. 

MacKaye, Percy, 318. 

Madison, James, 74. 

" Magnalia Christi," 34 ; extract from, 394. 

Markham, Edwin, 318. 

Marshall, John, 75. 

Marvel, Ik. See Donald G. Mitchell. 

"Masque of the Red Death," 490. 

Mather, Cotton, sketch of, 30-36; a 
voluminous writer, 30; ancestry and 
education, 30; a type of Puritan cul- 
ture, 31; a minister of the Gospel, 31; 
married life, 32 ; literary labors, 2>3> ', 
his "Magnalia Christi," 34; philan- 
thropic labors, 35 ; work on witchcraft, 
35 ; attitude toward vaccination, 35 ; 
disappointed ambition, 36 ; estimate of, 
36; illustrative selection, 394-402. 

Mather, Increase, 10. 

Matthews, Brander, 318. 

McCutcheon, George Barr, 318. 

McMastcr, John Bach, 318. 

Melville, Herman, 318. 

"Memories," 576. 

Miller, Cincinnatus Heine (Joaquin Mil- 
ler), 318; sketch of, 378-381. 

Mitchell, Donald Grant (Ik Marvel), 
318. 

Mitchell, Silas Weir, 318. 

Moody, William Vaughn, 319. 

Moral element in literature, 175. 

Morris. George P., 116. 

Morris, Gouverneur, 319. 

Motley, John Lothrop, 116, 132. 

Moulton, Louise Chandler, 319. 

Murfree, Mary Noailles, 319; sketch of, 
367-369- 

Nasby, Petroleum V. See David R. 
Locke. 

Nation, growth of, 41 ; schools and news- 
papers, 42 ; sense of future greatness. 



6i8 



INDEX 



43 ; growing national feeling, 44 ; at- 
tempts at federation, 48; expansion, 
120; a world power, 330. 

New England, 16; landing of Puritans, 16; 
religious factor, 16; growth of colony, 
17; popular intelligence in, 17; early 
establishment of schools, 17; literary 
preeminence of, 19. 

Newspapers, in Second Colonial Period, 
42; the first newspaper, 42. 

Nicholson, Meredith, 319. 

Novel, the modern, 332 ; the historical, 
335 ; the international, 336. 

O'Hara, Theodore, 116. 
"Old Ironsides," 594. 
O'Reilly, John Boyle, 319. 
OriginaUty, relative, 208. 
Osgood, Frances Sargent, 116. 
Ossoli, Margaret Fuller, 116. 

Page, Thomas Nelson, 319. 

Paine, Thomas, 74. 

Palfrey, James Gorham, 116. 

Parkman, P'rancis, 116. 

Partington, Mrs. See Benjamin P. Shil- 
laber. 

Paulding, James K., 117, 133. 

Payne, John Howard, 117. 

Percival, James Gates, 117. 

PhiUips, David Graham, 319. 

Philosophy, and literature, 332. 

Pinkney, Edward Coate, 117. 

Poe, Edgar Allan, sketch of, 192-207 ; sub- 
ject of controversy, 192 ; peculiar place 
in our Hterature, 192 ; parentage, 193 ; 
unfortunate rearing, 193 ; in England, 
193; school days in Richmond, 194; 
at the University, 194; seeking his 
fortune, 195 ; at West Point, 195 ; his 
poetic principle, 196; imitation, 197; 
literary career in Baltimore, 198; a 
prize story, 198; Southern Literary Mes- 
senger, 198; slashing criticism, 199; 
"Arthur Gordon Pym," 199; quarrel 
with Burton, 199; editor of Graham's 
Magazine, 200; a violent assumption, 
200 ; manner of life, 201 ; prose master- 
pieces, 201 ; "The Raven," 203; Broad- 
way Journal, 203 ; choicest poems, 204 ; 
poetic elements, 204 ; social gifts, 205 ; 
devotion and poverty, 205 ; sorrow and 



death, 206 ; a life tragedy, 206 ; illustra- 
tive selections, 487-500. 

Poetry, its minor place at present, 344. 

"Poor Richard's x\lmanac," 56. 

Porter, Sydney (O. Henry), 320. 

Prentice, George D., 117. 

Prescott, William Hickling, 117, 131. 

"Present Crisis, The," 557. 

Press, The, as educational agency, 329. 

Preston, Margaret J., 320. 

"Psalm of Life," 530. 

Puritans, landing of, 16. 

Queen Anne writers, influence of, 49. 

"Raven, The," 487. 

Read, Thomas Buchanan, 117. 

Realism, ss3 ', representatives of, 334. 

Reconstruction, 328. 

Religion, and literature, 331. 

Repplier, Agnes, 320. 

Revolutionary Period, 76 ; two important 
events, 76; patriotic heroism, 77; 
British tyranny, 77 ; spirit of liberty, 
78; a group of statesmen, 78; inde- 
pendence, 79; defect of the Confedera- 
tion, 80 ; Federalist and Anti-Federalist, 
81 ; new government, 82. 

Rice, Alice Hegan, 320. 

Rice, Cale Young, 320. 

Richmond, a literary center, 136. 

Riley, James Whitcomb, 320. 

Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 320. 

"Rip Van Winkle," 439. 

Rives, Amelie, 320. 

Roe, Edward Pay son, 320. 

Romanticism, 333 ; the new, 335. 

Roosevelt, Theodore, 320. 

Rowson, Mrs. Susanna, 73. 

Ryan, Abram Joseph, 321 ; sketch of, 373- 
375- 

Sandys, George, 9, 21. 

Sangster, Margaret M., 321. 

Saxe, John Godfrey, 117. 

Schools, established in Massachusetts, 

17; in Second Colonial Period, 42; 

in First National, 121 ; since Civil War, 

329. 
Science, and invention, 124; scientific 

spirit, 125. 
ScoUard, Clinton, 321. 



INDEX 



619 



Scudder, Horace E., 321. 

Sea well, Molly Elliot, 321. 

Second Colonial Period, 41 ; national 
growth, 41 ; a guiding destiny, 41 ; 
schools and newspapers in, 42 ; growth 
of national feeling, 44 ; mistaken policy 
of England, 45 ; purpose of France, 45 ; 
a long struggle, 46 ; first steps towards 
union, 47 ; conditions favorable to 
literature, 48 ; influence of Queen Anne 
writers, 49. 

Second National Period, 326; an era of 
transition, 326; diffusive critical litera- 
ture, 326; homogeneous development, 
327; war and reconstruction, 328; 
favorable conditions, 328; the press and 
schools, 329; a world power, 330; inter- 
national relations, 330; social progress, 
331; religion and literature, 331; in- 
fluence of philosophy, 332. 

Sedgwick, Catherine Maria, 117. 

Seton, Ernest Thompson, 321. 

Sewall, Samuel, 39. 

Shaw, Henry Wheeler, 321. 

Sherman, Frank Dempster, 321. 

Shillaber, Benjamin P., 321. 

"Ship-Builders, The," 578. 

Short Story, The, 338; leading exponents 
of, 339- 

Sigourney, Lydia Huntly, 117. 

Simms, WiUiam Gilmore, 118, 138. 

Sinclair, Upton, 321. 

"Skeleton in Armor, The," 532. 

Slavery, 127. 

Smith, Captain John, sketch of, 24-29 ; 
his youth, 24 ; travel and adventure, 25 ; 
success and misfortune, 25 ; at James- 
town, 26; dissension and misfortune, 
27 ; contemporary estimate, 27 ; ex- 
plorations in New England, 28; an 
extraordinary man, 29; illustrative 
selection, 387-393- 

Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 322. 

Smith, Samuel F., 322. 

Social progress, 331. 

Spalding, John Lancaster, 322. 

Sparks, Jared, 118. 

SpolTord, Harriet Prescott, 322. 

State Rights, 126. 

Stedman, Edmund Clarence, 322; sketch 
of, 354-357- 

Stith, William, 40. 



Stockton, Francis R., 322 ; sketch of, 359- 

361. 
Stoddard, Richard Henry, 322; sketch of, 

357-359- 
Story, WiUiam Wetmore, 322. 
Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 118. 
Strachey, William, 9. 
Stuart, Ruth McEnery, 322. 

Tabb, John B., 322. 

Tarbell, Ida M., 323. 

Tarkington, Newton Booth, 323. 

"Tauler," 588. 

Taylor, Bayard, 118.' 

Terhune, Mary Virginia (Marion Harland), 

"Thanatopsis," 472. 

Thanet, Octave. See Alice French. 

Thaxter, Celia, 323. 

Thomas, Edith M., 323. 

Thompson, John R., 118. 

Thompson, Maurice, 323. 

Thoreau, Henry David, 118. 

Timrod, 118; sketch of, 143. 

"To a Waterfowl," 474. 

"To the Fringed Gentian," 478. 

Tourgee, Albion Winegar, 323. 

Transcendentalism, 216. 

Transcendental movement, 129. 

Trent, WiUiam P., 323. 

Trowbridge, John T., 323. 

Trumbull, John, 73 ; his " McFingal," 85. 

Twain, Mark. See Samuel L. Clemens. 

Union, first steps towards, 48 
Unitarian controversy, 128. 

Van Dyke, Henry, 312. 

Virginia, 12; cavalier tone,« 13 ; unfavor- 
able Uterary conditions, 13 ; population 
agricultural, 14. 

"Vision of Sir Launfal, The," 560. 

Wallace, Lewis, 324. 

Ward, Artemus. See Charles Farrar 

Browne. 
Ward, Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, 324. 
Ware, William, 118. 
Warner, Charles Dudley, 324; sketch of, 

347-349. 
Washington, George, 75. 



620 



INDEX 



Wharton, Edith J., 324. 

"What Mr. Robinson Thinks," 555. 

Wheatley, Phillis, 73. 

Whipple, E. P., 324. 

Whitaker, Alexander, 9. 

White, Richard Grant, 324. 

White, Steward Edward, 324. 

White, WiUiam Allen, 324. 

Whitman, Walt, 324; sketch and critique 
of, 361-365- 

Whitney, Adeline D. T., 324. 

Whittier, John Greenleaf, sketch of, 277- 
292; the Bums of New England, 277; 
ancestry and early home, 277 ; poetic 
fire lighted, 278 ; poet and cobbler, 279 ; 
newspaper editing, 279; at Hartford, 
280; anti-slavery movement, 280; mob 
violence, 281; "Voices of Freedom," 
281; intense democracy, 282; "Songs 
of Labor," 282 ; a hidden romance, 283 ; 
a bard of faith, 283 ; contributions to the 
National Era, 284; "The Last Walk in 
Autumn," 285; prose writing, 285; 
"Home Ballads," 285; the Civil War, 
286; "Snow-bound," 287; "The Tent 



on the Beach," 289 ; declining years, 290; 
characteristics of his poetry, 290; per- 
sonal traits, 291 ; closing scene, 291 ; 
illustrative selections, 576-588. 

Wiggin, Kate Douglas (Mrs. Geo. C. 
Riggs), 325- 

Wigglesworth, Michael, 39. 

Wilcox, Ella Wheeler, 325. 

Wilde, Richard Henry, 118. 

WiUis, Nathaniel P., 118. 

Wilson, Alexander, 74. 

Wilson, Augusta Jane Evans, 325. 

Wilson, Woodrow, 325. 

Winter, William, 325. 

Winthrop, John, 9. 

Wirt. William, 75. 

Wister, Owen, 325. 

Women, as writers, 344 ; a New England 
group of, 351. 

Woodberry, George Edward, 325. 

Woodworth, Samuel, 119. 

Woolson, Constance Fenimore, 325, 

Wright, Harold Bell, 325. 

"Yankee Doodle," 86. 




LIBRARY OF 



CONGRESS 




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